


It Can't Be Helped

by InHerOwnWorld



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Animal Traits, Disgustingly cheesy dad-joke level puns, F/M, Fluff, So many misunderstandings it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InHerOwnWorld/pseuds/InHerOwnWorld
Summary: In which Nick exhibits vulpine tendencies and Judy is oblivious to what they mean.





	1. Purr-poseful Affections

The first time Judy notices it, her and Nick are commiserating about their joint paperwork duty during one uneventful Tuesday. Usually there is banter tossed between them in their shared office cubicle, but the loads of paper stacked on their individual desks deter them from any witty remarks. Rumor has it Bogo is in a bad mood that day, and neither of them want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

After two hours of silence, Judy flops forward dramatically onto her desk.

She states seriously to Nick, “When I die, I want a pink casket. Not like the obnoxious hot pink color, but a pastel one. You know, Easter-y. And I want lots of flowers. And Gazelle music in the background. And make sure people wear bright colors to my funeral because I feel like black is just so _depressing_ and, I mean, funerals are already depressing to begin with so—”

Nick has turned around in his chair to stare dryly at her, an unamused eyebrow raised.

“—make sure the eulogy is funny – oh who am I kidding you make a joke out of anything anyway – and tell Mr. Big not to ice anyone because as much as I appreciate his support, I don’t want anyone else dying on my behalf—”

“Carrots.”

She doesn’t stop at his interruption.

“Also, tell mom and dad that I _realllyyyyy_ don’t need all 275 siblings, or our extended relatives, there because _dear god_ can you _imagine_ how emotional that would be? Dad alone has enough tears for half the burrow, never mind the rest of them—”

“Is being overdramatic a bunny thing, or a _you_ thing?”

While her mind thinks back to her elementary school play and the fake-savage-attack act with Belleweather, she responds defensively, “I’m not overdramatic.”

“It’s paperwork, Fluffbutt. We all have to do it,” he reasons. Which is kind of annoying because really, _Judy_ is typically the rational one, not him. To show her irritation, she huffs and faces away from the fox, elbows on the table with her head in her paws while she reluctantly continues reading forms.

Her ears pick up the faint noise of a chair moving and suddenly she feels more than sees the bottom of Nick’s muzzle resting atop her head. His snout pokes out between her ears, and she can feel/hear his heartbeat and it all makes her toes curl, despite herself.

Judy’s cheeks must be slowly reddening, but she tries her best to ignore it—to ignore the fluttery feelings she has whenever Nick does stuff like this, to ignore the soft, warm fur currently nestled between her ears, making her long to cuddle. _Sweet peas_ , Nicholas Wilde will be the death of her.

Sighing, her ears droop a bit. She's acting like a child, and it's embarrassing. “Sorry, just a little grumpy today.”

There’s a pause, then Nick offers, “Want me to finish it for you?”

“No!” she hastily answers, guilt overriding the shock that Nick is actually _volunteering_ to do _paperwork_ , of all things. “That isn’t fair to you! I’ll be fine, really, I guess I’m just a little antsy today. No big deal.”

Judy almost continues rambling about how sorry she is and how she promises to shut up about her overemotional bunny issues when a vibration rumbles through her fur.

Immediately, her body freezes. The source of the vibration isn’t her.

The bunny doesn’t know what to make of the firm pulsations rippling from the top of her head to her feet. She can tell this—weird, unfamiliar, yet oddly soothing— _t_ _hing_ is coming from Nick. The sound nearly resembles a growl, but more guttural and less intimidating.

She remains silent, slowly relaxing as time goes by. Granted it’s only early afternoon and barely two hours have passed since arriving for her shift, her eyes begin to droop. The rumbling is calming her down, decelerating her heart rate.

A few more moments pass, and then Nick pulls away from her. “Better?”

She glances back to meet his eyes. His very green eyes that remind her of grass meadows and leaves and summer—glinting with an expression Judy can’t read.

“Uh, yeah. Much better,” she mumbles.

Nick nods with an affirmative grunt and plops back down at his desk. They continue to do paperwork in silence.

Judy secretly marvels over what just occurred.

* * *

 

The two partners are at Nick’s apartment, watching reruns of _Friends_ while sitting side-by-side on the couch with bowls of pasta in their paws. Bogo spared them a Saturday for once, and after a long week they both agreed to strive for extreme laziness and enjoy the ever-rare free time.

Free time that is currently being interrupted by Judy’s overbearing parents. She resists thumping her foot. Peering over at Nick, Judy notices a slowly-growing smirk on her partner’s muzzle. His ears are perked up, most likely ready to eavesdrop on the should-be-private conversation that Judy just  _knows_ is going to humiliate and annoy her. 

 _Glad he finds my misery so entertaining_.

“Hey Mom! Dad!” Judy exclaims after accepting the voice call. No MuzzleTime today. Silently, she begs in her head for this call to be brief.

“ _Hi bun! How’s the city treating you? Did you have a good day at work?”_ her mom asks enthusiastically. There's so much cheerfulness in her voice,  _too_ much. Judy already knows where this conversation is headed. 

Judy talks about work. Her parents talk about home. Judy talks about Nick. Her parents talk about how she could use some new friends and needs to find a handsome buck.  Judy whines. Her parents ignore her whining. Judy deflects and tries to end the call.

They’re somewhat more stubborn today, really insisting that she come home next weekend to attend a gathering of some sort. She has no doubt that it’s a setup for her to date another rabbit, even if they don’t admit it outright.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump_. Her foot’s already going.

“I can’t just take off work you guys. I have responsibilities.”

“ _Of course, Jude the Dude! We know how important work is for ya, but surely the Chief wouldn’t mind giving you just one weekend?”_

Judy winces at the old, childhood nickname her dad is _insistent_ on using despite the fact that she's 24 and an esteemed Zootopian police officer. She pretends not to notice the snickering fox beside her. 

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump—_

“Listen, I’ll be home for Christmas. I’m lucky enough Bogo is giving me paid leave for some of the holidays.”

Her mom frets, “ _Oh, sweetie, make sure he’s not over-working you. You need your rest, you know. A trip to Bunnyburrow would be perfect to ease your mind.”_

 _THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP_.

In her peripheral vision, Nick scoots closer to her. Moments ago he had been holding back laughter, but now he appears serious. He hesitates for a moment before pulling her body backwards into his chest, long arms and large paws wrapped gently around her in a totally platonic –

( _very intimate_ )

– embrace. Judy's mind blanks. The only thing she can really focus on is the realization that the white fur on his chestis noticeably softer and downier than the rest of him. Judy can’t tell if the warmth is coming from her blush or from Nick’s body heat. Possibly both.

Her foot halts. Nick has his head on top of hers again and he’s—

 _Purring_ , Judy finally recognizes the action. It’s clearer now, she can feel the purr reverberating throughout his body. It goes through her body too.

“ _Judes, you still there?_ ”

She can barely find words.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m…uh…distracted.”

Again, her heartrate that had been increasing with her agitation is gradually returning to its resting pace. Nick’s purring is almost hypnotic, the rumble so smooth and calming. She’s never experienced this before, neither the action nor its effect on her.

Her parents rattle off a goodbye for the moment. Once the call ends, Nick releases Judy from his hold, and they both return to their original positions. Judy’s eyes are wide, and her mind grapples for something to say that isn’t completely awkward.

Luckily, her partner isn’t dubbed ‘Slick’ for nothing.

He teases, “You know, I’m surprised you haven’t given them a conniption yet from constantly throwing yourself in danger and hanging around a fox every day.”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs, “Oh, c’mon, they’re not _that_ overprotective.”

Nick raises a sardonic eyebrow.

“I mean,” she fumbles, “They handled the whole Nighthowler case really well. And they attended your graduation and shook your paw without fainting. _And_ they stopped calling the reception desk every day to make sure I was alive.”

“Only because Bogo nearly cursed them out that one day.”

“That’s _not true—_

As they bicker, the awkwardness from before dissipates.

But Judy doesn’t forget.

Later that night, after she has already left Nick’s apartment and returned to her own, Judy contemplates Nick’s impromptu cuddle session, Or  _sessions_ , plural, because she can't forget what occurred earlier that week either. The fox had been _purring_. Actual, honest-to-God, _purring_ , like what felines normally do when they’re little kits. Or so Judy has heard. Being a rabbit, she does not fully comprehend _why_ they do it or _how_. Being who she is, she’s too stubborn and embarrassed to simply ask. What if she comes off as offensive or stereotyping?

Regardless, she isn’t complaining.

(she’s kind of sort of starting to really enjoy it and wants Nick to do it more often but doesn’t know how to ask without sounding like a desperate idiotic weirdo who most definitely does _not_ have an extremely minor small crush on her handsome best friend no sir-ee)

Lying in bed, she turns her head over to the alarm clock on her desk.  _11:02 PM_. She's been home since 10:00, laying down since 10:14, and 48 minutes have already gone by but she's still thinking about him - about Nick. Her partner. Who purrs. Specifically while around her. Unless there's someone else he purrs at. Not that that's possible, because Judy spends nearly every waking moment with Nick whether at work or at home. Well, except for those days where Nick randomly disappears and doesn't answer his texts for a few hours. Because he must be visiting Finnick, surely. Not some random vixen. No, definitely no vixen. Just Finnick and...and all those other random people he happens to know. None of them are vixens. Or females. Okay, maybe some females, but not like romantically interested females. Or males. That is, males who aren't Finnick. Nick isn't gay, right?

 _Great. I'm questioning Nick's sexuality. Maybe I should stop questioning_ **his sexuality**   _and question_ **my sanity**. 

That last thought causes Judy to stuff her face into a pillow. She is pathetic, she is over-reacting, and she needs sleep. 

Finally, Judy resolves to simply ignore the issue (and its implications) for now. Nick hadn't purred at her in all their months of working together up until this week; maybe he only did as a temporary, spur-of-the-moment thing. The action probably doesn't signify anything. Her parents have been extra frustrating lately, perhaps the frustration is causing Judy to misinterpret the whole situation. Yes, that's it. She's reading  _wayyyy_ too much into Nick's actions. Everything will be back to normal next week. 

_Yep. Next week. Back to normal. Everything._

Eventually, she drifts off, completely unaware that the purrs are only the beginning.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no shame in the fact that the chapter title is a pun.
> 
> I am, however, shameful in the fact that I'm obsessed with a fictional pairing of a RABBIT and a FOX. I think I've officially crossed over to the furry side. 
> 
> Admittedly, this is my first attempt at writing Zootopia fanfiction. I've been meaning to join AO3 for a while, but my attachment to FF.Net made it difficult. *shrugs* Honestly though, this site is ten times easier to navigate and sort though. AND THE TAGS. I LOVE THE TAGS. 
> 
> This story is a cross between a multi-chapter fic and a one-shot collection. While every chapter is connected and generally happens in chronological order, there may be time skips in between, and each chapter will depict a different animalistic/primal trait that Nick displays. 
> 
> I did quite a bit of (awkward) research on foxes. As far as I know, they can affectionately purr, it just isn't a trait that particularly stands out. For the purpose of this fic and my need to write wildehopps fluff, I'm taking some creative liberties with both this chapter and future chapters regarding the behavior of foxes. In the endnotes for each chapter, I'll distinguish the concepts that are factual between the concepts that I've toyed around with to make this story work. 
> 
> Please feel free to give me tips and advice, either for this work or for the general workings of AO3 because I am a hot mess express and don't really know what I'm doing other than word vomiting all these fluffy wildehopps scenes onto a Word document and posting them here.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Smirking With Snug-ness

A week has gone by since the last purring incident, and Judy is almost sure that Nick’s not going to do it again. Whether she is content or upset by this prediction, she’s not sure.

She is, however, certain of how excited she is to retrieve her coffee order from the barista at _Stagbucks_. Shooting the male kangaroo a grateful smile, she grabs the drink and goes to wait outside the coffee shop doors for Nick.

Judy lets her paws rest on the non-covered section of the cup so that the heat can seep through and remove the iciness in her fingers. While taking slow, careful sips, she checks the time on her phone. Good, it’s only 5 AM. They have an hour to finish their drinks and trek over to the precinct for their 6 o’clock shift, which should be quick given that it’s an early Saturday morning and most mammals are still sleeping. Without so many pedestrians milling about, it’s easier to walk straight to the police station and not get stepped on in the process.

Chilling gusts of winds blow against Judy, and the rabbit wills the hot beverage to warm her up already. The temperature outside isn’t too cold, but the wind makes it nearly unbearable.

A couple minutes pass by. Nick must be still ordering. Judy has nearly finished her coffee at this point, and though her body is slowly defrosting, the cup no longer keeps her paws warm. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, repressing a shiver. Yearlong hot and sunny Bunnyburrow weather has not prepared the country bunny for November in Zootopia.

By the time Nick finally walks out of the shop, Judy’s teeth are chattering and her body visibly shakes.

“Geez, you look colder than a pawpsicle,” he jokes as he gives her a onceover. Though he’s teasing, she can detect a hint of concern in his tone.

“I’m f-fine,” she stutters, quickly trashing her cup and darting her eyes to the sidewalk as they head towards the precinct. She appreciates her partner's concern—really, she does—but she hates appearing weak in front of others, especially him. So she walks at a brisk pace, not looking Nick in the eye.

At first, she thinks he’ll let it slide. He doesn’t respond and keeps pace with her, occasionally gulping down some of his coffee. In spite of the freezing temperature, Judy allows herself to relax a bit, silently appreciating their surroundings. She enjoys these quiet mornings with Nick, the sun just beginning to rise, the autumn leaves dancing around the empty streets. The serenity seems out-of-place for a loud, ostentatious city like Zootopia, typically jam-packed with a plethora of different mammals.

She should know better by now that Nick can always see through her. Although she’s clearly focused on admiring the setting, her teeth are still chattering and her body is shaking so bad that it almost looks like she’s hopping in place.

He does it so fast, she doesn’t realize what happened at first. One moment, she’s strolling along the cement path and the next—it’s dark. Dark and smelly with some strange musky scent _but_ it _is_ warm. Very, _very_ warm.

“Nick?” Judy squeaks, voice somewhat muffled from underneath his jacket.

“Hm?” he responds back casually, as though he hadn’t put his arm around her, dragged her to his side underneath his heavy coat, and then zipped both of them up so that they were snug against each other’s side. One arm drapes over her shoulder so that their bodies are side-by-side; the other remaining in the jacket's right arm sleeve. Nick is tall enough that his head still pokes out from the jacket's collar, but Judy is too short, leaving the entire top half of her body to be covered. 

She’s flustered. She knows it and he knows it and honestly she can’t decide if she wants to strangle him by his neck or cuddle up even more to his side. On one paw, it is completely rational for her to keep out of the cold and remain in this cozy, snuggly position. On the other paw, it is also completely rational for her to freak out because it’s not just her keeping warm, it’s her keeping warm _while literally cuddling into Nick’s body with his arm wrapped around her like she’s…like she’s…_

Judy can’t think of a proper word. Or, maybe she can, but she doesn’t bring herself to admit it.

Nick pipes up, “You doin’ okay in there? You’re awfully quiet.”

“Shove it,” she snips back. Thank god she’s hidden underneath the coat while his head is outside because she knows the fox has night vision and would probably be able see how crazy her blush is.

“As your best friend, it is my responsible best friend duty to make sure you do not die from pneumonia,” he pauses, “and also, I need you _not_ frozen into an ice sculpture because – no offense Carrots – but lifelike sculptures are out of style these days and we wouldn’t want to deter potential recruits from applying because the ZPD can’t afford decent building décor."

God help her, she actually might kill this fox.

He’s still going. “Not to mention, Chief Buffalo Butt would probably assign me to a different partner and I think I might go crazy if I’m stuck with a howling Wolford again. As annoyingly optimistic as you are, I’d take a dumb bunny over a yappy wolf any day.”

Kill him. Slowly. Mercilessly. After getting a couple of good punches and kicks in.

Instead of voicing her temptation to commit murder out loud, Judy groans.

“Oh come on, it can't be _that_ bad in there. Considering the shoebox you live in, this tiny space in my jacket must feel like a _mansion_.”

At this point, she doesn’t bother to reply and merely sags her shoulders.

They’re both quiet for a few minutes.

“Hey, Judy. You all right?”

Nick used her real name, he must be asking her seriously. It takes Judy a moment to ponder his words before she remembers that she had been freezing before. “Oh, yeah, uh, I’m comfortable now, mostly. Thanks.”

Instead of accepting her gratitude, Nick questions, “‘Mostly’?”

Ugh. Of course he picks up on that tiny detail.

She shrugs as much as she can, given her position. There’s no point in lying to him. “Just my legs. They’re the only parts not, uh, covered by your coat.”

Hearing no response from him, she figures he’s dropping the subject and letting them continue their leisurely –

_(extremely awkward)_

– stroll. Absently, Judy wonders how they haven’t reached the precinct by now. Granted, her and Nick are walking slow due to the fact that they’re literally attached at the hip and Nick needs to guide both their bodies in the right direction, but she figures they should have arrived at this point. It’s been, what, 20 minutes? More? She prays they’re not lat—

_SOMETHING IS TOUCHING HER LEGS._

Nick.

Nick is touching her legs.

With his tail.

His tail is wrapped around them.

Her legs.

_Nick’s bushy, soft, comfy, warm, lovely, burgundy tail is wrapped around Judy’s legs and it should not feel this pleasant but it does and for the life of her Judy can’t tell what’s worse: the weird cuddle and snuggle thing going on right now or—_

As if attuned to her thoughts, a purr starts emanating from his chest. Judy hates her body for relaxing. Hates herself for relishing the sensation of a fox covering almost the entire surface of her fur. Honestly, she should push Nick away. Unwrap his tail from around her legs, scold him for being so touchy-feely, and then brace the chilly weather on her own like a strong, independent, bunny cop would.

Needless to say, she doesn’t. Against pretty much all forms of (rapidly vanishing) logic, Judy instead curls her finger pads into his tail, and burrows even closer into his chest. Gentle claws smooth down her ears that drop against her back, delicately tracing the length of them.

Absently, Judy deliberates if this is a fox thing. This whole tails-bound-around-her-legs and cozying-up-together-under-a-jacket thing. _With_ the purring. All of it. Together. Simultaneously. Not for the first time, Judy somewhat laments being a bunny, unfamiliar with these actions and uncomprehending in what they mean for her or for Nick.

Nick pulls Judy out of her musings with a soft elbow jab into her stomach.

“Looks like we’re here,” he chirps. Immediately, he unzips his jacket with his free arm and pulls away from her, leaving a chaste space between them.

Judy blinks at Nick, then at the large building half a block down, and then at Nick again. Occasions like these make her wish she could read him better. As it is, she’s having difficulty determining whether he’s actually bright and cheerful, or if it’s a façade to distract her from what they were just doing.

No time to figure out. This close to the ZPD, officers are nearby, either taking a last minute drag on a cigarette or, like Judy and Nick, heading in for their shift. The rabbit glances at her phone briefly. It’s 5:53.

“Ready to make the world an amazing place?!” Nick exclaims in an overly-flagrant voice.

He’s clearly mocking her. Dumb fox.

“Actually,” she corrects, “It’s ‘ready to make the world a _better_ place’.”

He rolls his eyes. “Technicalities, technicalities.”

Just one little jab, and it’s back to normal. Gears are turning in her head, detecting the pattern in Nick’s behavior.

 _Later,_ she decides. _I’ll decode him later. At home. Without him there._

Like they usually do, every single morning, rabbit and fox walk in together, exchanging retorts and sarcastic comments.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Wolford’s nose scrunches up at their appearance, leering at them intently as he follows them into the bullpen.


	3. Moves Like Wagger

Judy ends up making a second batch of coffee in the breakroom after the bullpen meeting. Nick isn’t beside her, for once, having opted to go wait for her at the reception desk so he could chat with Clawhauser. Bogo assigned them patrol in Tundratown, and Judy already predicts how cold and exhausted she will feel by the end of it.

“Hey,” Wolford greets, magically appearing in the door frame to the room. Judy knows Wolford doesn’t like chit-chatting much, preferring comfortable silences over loud, ongoing conversation. Hence when she glances over to him, she foregoes her usual enthusiasm and simply nods her head in response. Now, he’ll smile pleasantly at her and go on his way to the large-mammal-sized coffee maker on the counter adjacent to Judy.

That’s what should happen, anyway.

Today, he changes their routine. He keeps talking. “Hopps.”

He merely states her name, but the fact that this is _Wolford_ nearly causes Judy to jump. Her ears perk straight up, eyes widening as she gives the wolf her full attention. His face belies nothing, eyes devoid of expression, muzzle tight-lipped in a neutral line. Not that Wolford is one to bounce around the office with a giddy smile and sparkling eyes, but he’s not one to be completely stoic either.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, unable to keep the hesitance out of her voice.

 He breathes in heavily, breathes out a sigh. “You know that wolves…out of all mammals, have a really keen sense of smell, right?”

 _Huh?_ She blinks rapidly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” she mutters, not sure where he’s going with this and quite frankly, kind of nervous. All she can really wonder is maybe she showers too little and her body odor is so strong to the point that it physically bothers Wolford. Then again, she’s been working at Precinct One for a while now, and he hadn’t mentioned anything before.

He shifts from foot to foot, then starts wringing his paws. “Okay. So you know we can smell _everything_. Like marks and stuff too.”

All right, now she’s _really_ confused.

“Marks?” she repeats. “What do you mean?”

He cocks his head to the side, analyzing her. Judy resists the urge to twitch her nose.

At his lack of an answer, she inquires, “Would you like to elaborate…?”

“So you don’t know then.”

“Don’t know what?”

Wolford stares at her again, but now there’s a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Huh,” he muses, “maybe it’s only a canine thing.”

Judy gaps at him. “Wait, _what_ is a canine thing? What aren’t you telling me?”

The serious attitude is replaced by humor now. Wolford openly snickers at her, clearly holding back from barking laughter. “Oh, I’m sure Nick can tell you _all_ about it.”

Ignoring Judy’s verbal fumbling, he heads back out towards the exit. Before he leaves, he calls out, “Scent-marking. Zoogle it.”

* * *

 

“Nicholas Wilde—charming, handsome, incredibly-gifted—cop watches the revolving door with impeccable vigilance. A beaver walks out; could he be the murder suspect? He looks awfully suspicious, leaving the art supply store with paintbrushes. What if those are the murder weapons? But then, maybe the bored, teenage tigress is the culprit, who stands at the cash register, putting on the façade of underpaid employee. What if—”

Five hours. Five hours of patrol with Nick’s _illuminating_ narration.

“Nick. I swear to God—”

“Carrots interrupts him, a look of annoyance crossing her face. The only bunny on the force, she is awfully cute when angry—OW! JUDY!”

“Call me cute again, I implore you.”

“Do you really implore me, or is this another scheme for you to—” he yelps again, rubbing his arm in the area that she punched him. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING THAT TIME!”

“No goofing off on patrol!”

“Says the bunny who was playing Candy Crush five minutes ago—CARROTS WILL YOU STOP THAT?”

“You haven’t shut up for _five hours_.”

“Technically, it’s been 4 hours and 27 minutes…but who’s counting with an invigorating patrol like this one?”

“…”

“Officer Wilde resumes his watch—”

“—keep up the narration and I’ll punch you so hard in a certain area you won’t be able to reproduce.”

“…”

“…”

“Can I at least sing?”

“No.”

“Mime?”

“No.”

“Lip sync?”

“ _Nick._ ”

He groans, slumping in the chair. “ _Carrots._ I’m _bored_.”

She sighs, “I’m bored too, Nick. But we have 33 minutes left before we can head back to the station. We need to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity.”

When Nick finally resigns to their fate of _peacefully_ finishing their patrol, Judy figures now is a good time as any to follow up on her conversation with Wolford.

“Hey Nick?”

“Hm?”

“What’s scent-marking?”

He hacks in the seat next to her, one of his fisted hands pounding hard on his chest. He opens the window to stick his head out, puffs of warm breath forming in the frigid air. Judy watches him uneasily, eyes darting back and forth between the patrol she should be doing and her partner.

“Is it like a perfume? Or cologne?”

His hacks have turned into choking noises. She wishes he would turn around so she could read his expression, but his head is still out the window and facing away from her. Bystanders notice his odd actions, mammals steering clear of the cop car and increasing their pace as they trudge by in the snow.

“Nick, you’re attracting attention!” she hisses at him, pulling on his arm. “Nick!”

“Sorry,” he finally coughs out, returning to his original position. The windows slowly roll up. Now that his head is back in the car and facing forward, Judy sees a mask in place, a strange despondency in his expression.

Instead of answering her question, he asks his own. “Where did you hear that term?”

“Wolford mentioned it,” Judy says.

“Hm. Wolford.”

“Yes.”

“…”

“So…are you going to tell me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking out the dashboard blankly. “It’s a predator thing. Specifically for canines. You wouldn’t get it.”

With eyes still searching for signs of trouble, Judy retorts, “How do you know?”

In her peripheral vision, Nick shrugs and huffs, “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re acting very defensive over something that’s ‘ _not a big deal’._ ”

“It’s awkward to talk about, okay? Just drop it.” Granted his frustration gives Judy a weird sort of satisfaction ( _who feels flustered **now** , Sir-Purrs-A-Lot?_), she feels guilty for pushing him. Nick divulges personal information on his own terms; forcing anything out of him only makes him more agitated. So, for now, she lets it go. As though she hasn’t been doing that enough for the past few weeks.

The rest of their patrol carries out in silence.

By the end of the day, Nick still acts distant around Judy, and it makes her uncomfortable. She contemplates researching on her own, but dismisses the idea at the thought of Nick finding out. He’ll tell her in due time, right?

Nick rushes to punch out before her (which doesn’t go unnoticed by Judy) and by the time she’s at the punch-out machine, a couple officers of the precinct are surrounding her, all except a certain fox. Ears drooping, she takes her time in leaving the precinct. Her mind is so distracted that she nearly forgets to mumble a farewell to Clawhauser, who frowns at her as she steps out the door. Her and Nick usually take the subway together; today, she’ll have to ride alone.

She arrives to her apartment just in time to hear the latest argument between the neighbors next door. Bucky and Pronk really go at it—the frames hanging on her wall shakes from the loud voices, and one of them must be stomping their hooves on the ground because she can feel the occasional muffled pounding noises against the floor.

Not even bothering with PJs, she plops her back on her bed, limbs sprawled out in exhaustion and lethargy. Above her, the cracks and bits of dust catch her attention. For a while, the ceiling works to distract her from Nick. And then she starts wondering about him.

Admittedly, she enjoys the purring. Granted it pushes the boundaries of “platonic best friends” a bit, Judy appreciates that Nick goes out of his way to comfort her. Typically he evades emotional discussions with humor and deflection, so the fact that he lets his barriers down around her is both endearing as it is honoring.

Plus, if she’s being honest with herself, she finds it _a little_ cute.

…Okay. Maybe really, sickeningly cute. To the point that her stomach curls with a feeling both warm and nauseating.

But then there’s the added issue of this “scent-marking” (which she decides not to research out of respect for Nick) and the overall cuddliness Nick has been exhibiting. Perhaps this whole thing wouldn’t be so weird if she had witnessed it from the start, rather than an entire _year_ after knowing him. Not to mention how, immediately after these… _moments_ (for a lack of a better word) occur, Nick retreats into himself again, pretending as though nothing had happened to begin with. It’s strange, even for him.

Now he apparently wishes to avoid her. Judy knows it can’t last long; they’re partners. The second they stop working as a team and show a breach in professionalism, Bogo will have them chewed out and—worst-case scenario—fired. 

 _Tomorrow,_ she says to herself, not willing to think on the topic any longer, _tomorrow is another day_.

* * *

 

At 4:30 AM on a Sunday morning, this clerk has to hate Judy. Despite the bunny’s ever-effacing kindness and polite demeanor, the bear glares at her through thick-rimmed glasses, muttering obscenities under his breath (of which Judy can hear, and tries to ignore it while thumping her foot). Nevertheless, he adheres to her request, and starts forming the dough for the pastries Judy is about to purchase. Just about the entirety of Zootopia knows Mammalia Bakery for its incredible donuts and pastries. The shop is so popular, the business owner keeps it open 24/7—working in Judy’s favor for an impromptu order that she hopes will cheer Nick up.

Finally, the bear hands her over a nicely-wrapped box with a receipt taped on top. Judy bids him an energetic farewell (that, go figure, isn’t returned) and hops out of the store. She lost an hour of sleep to go the extra distance for the bakery and still have enough time to be punctual to work, but it’ll be worth it to snap Nick out of his weird funk.

As expected, she shows up to the ZPD an hour later, 30 minutes before roll call. She walks over to Clawhauser, who is non-subtly eyeing the box of pastries.

“Morning honeybunny! No Nick today?”

Though Clawhauser is paws-down the most enthusiastic individual Judy has ever encountered – which says a lot coming from someone who lived with hundreds of energetic, literally _bouncing-off-the-walls_ bunnies – she can’t help but feel as though there’s a forced gusto in his greeting. The cheetah keeps glancing side-to-side, while his tail anxiously twitches behind him. Even his smile seems…off…somehow, stretched far too wide on his muzzle.

Judy narrows her eyes, but acts casual. “Woke up late, probably. You know how he can be.”

“Of course!” he exclaims. “Right, definitely late. Has to be late. Must be those nocturnal instincts. Hard to knock, ya know?”

Just as Judy starts to question him, Clawhauser cuts her off by gesturing to the box, “Are those for me?”

“Oh, ah—” she rubs the back of her head, a sheepish smile on her face, “they’re actually…for Nick.”

The sound Clawhauser emits at that statement is a mixture between a fangirling squeal and a baby-like coo. 

“ _Awwyyeeeeewww,_ you got him _fancy_ treats to make it up to him?”

Judy freezes. “Wait. Make _what_ up to him?”

Clawhauser’s eyes widen, and he starts to grasp for an explanation, “Oh, just, I mean, I may have—actually, no, I didn’t—what is—I mean, he looked upset yesterday and…ahhh… _Hey Nick!_ Look at what Judy brought for ya!”

Oh, that cheetah is _so_ covering something up—but Judy resists interrogating him to deal with the fox that has just strolled into the precinct. His fur seems ragged and dull in color compared to how it usually is. His tail drags across the floor, lacking energy. The aviators block her from reading his expression, but she can tell by his muzzle that he’s distraught today.

His ears, however, slightly perk up when he turns his muzzle towards the box. For a moment, Judy thinks he won’t speak to her, but he ends up asking, “Carrots, what’s this?”

“Oh! Um, I just picked up a little something for you,” she blushes, peering away and toeing the floor as she holds the box out for him to take. He takes it from her gingerly, before undoing the tie and opening up the box.

The glasses block her from reading his eyes, but the large, toothy grin on his face gives her enough of a clue to know he appreciates the box’s contents.

“Oh my G—are these _blueberry pastries_? From _Mammalia Bakery?_ ”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, still not quite looking at him, “thought you’d like them.”

He beams at her, removing his glasses for a moment to look her in the face with a genuinely-happy expression. “Thanks, Carrots.”

“You’re welc—”

She halts in the middle of her sentence, because Nick has wrapped his arms around her and gripped her tight—so tight, as though he’s stranded in the middle of the ocean and clutching onto a buoy in desperation to keep from drowning. Judy feels her feet leave ground, and then she’s hanging in mid-air, being hugged by _Nick_ , of all mammals, her head resting on his shoulder while his head cranes to nuzzle the back of hers.

From this vantage point, she becomes transfixed by his tail wagging in a rapid, animated motion behind him.

It. Is. So. Cute. How has she not noticed before? Has Nick ever even wagged his tail like this? Just look at him – he is like a little kit who received his first gift from Santa Claws and he is so _warm_ and _snuggly_ and hints at so much more depth and emotion behind his personality and _ugh_ , she literally cannot handle how adorable he acts or how adorable he is in general because this is too precious—

 _Sweet cheese and crackers I just thought a fox looked cute, is this ironic because a_ bunny _called another mammal cute or disturbing because that other mammal happens to be a_ fox _?_

For once, she shoves back her trepidation, ignores her thoughts, and (in a burst of emotion and irrationality) returns the hug by draping her tiny paws across his shoulder blades and nuzzling into Nick’s neck. This time, she accepts the purr emanating from his body much more readily, and actually tries to mimic it back to him—only causing his tail to wag faster and the purr to become louder.

Absently, she hears the weird squeal-coo noise in the background coming from Clawhauser again.


	4. Jumping in Cuddles

Judy has a weakness when it comes to loneliness. She hates when mammals leave her out of things, cannot stand those who ignore her, and (the worst) transforms into a giant ball of anxiety whenever her friends hide a secret from her but won’t say anything about it.

In the span of a few days, a new atmosphere forms at the ZPD. Sly looks (not just from Nick) are sent her way. Female officers giggle or whisper when Judy enters the locker room. More often than not, Judy's sensitive hearing picks up on Grizzoli, Del Gato, and Wolford talking about some "arrangement" that involves betting money. Clawhauser acts different too, appraising her with an intense look when she enters in the morning only to cover it up with a regular smile when she catches him in the act. The only mammal who hasn’t treated her oddly thus far is Chief Bogo, but that doesn’t really say much considering Chief Bogo doesn’t care about _anything_ (outwardly, anyway).

It's because of the hug. _It has to be_. In retrospect, she should've known that the exchange would've stirred up the gossiping pot. Like some love-struck pre-teen who met Justin Beaver for the first time, Judy had _nuzzled_ and _purred back_ to Nick in the _center_ _lobby_ of a _giant, public institution._ All of which Clawhauser firsthand witnessed—Clawhauser, the mammal who would rather run a mile and give up donuts for the day than not spread juicy gossip to the entire precinct.

Judy attempted to end the contact with grace, which abruptly failed when Nick made an odd, strangled noise, pulled away from her, and sprinted to the bathroom as though someone had set his tail on fire. Leaving Judy standing there like a dumb bunny and Clawhauser laughing louder than a hyena. 

Luckily, the awkwardness lasted only for a brief period. By the time Judy sat down in the bullpen to receive her assignment, Nick smoothly joined her and began showing her detailed doodles of Chief Bogo's face covered in clown-looking makeup. However, while the discomfort faded quickly and her and Nick returned to normal, the rest of the precinct underwent a drastic change. 

Not that anyone will admit it to her. She keeps trying to pull a confession out of Clawhauser, but the cheetah (for once in her entire time of knowing him) remains quiet. When sitting next to Rhinowitz, before Nick arrives, Judy will ask if he senses anything unusual only to receive an eye roll accompanied by a snort of amusement. She even attempts confronting Wolford about meeting with Grizzoli and Del Gato, but every time they are in the same room he conjures a reason to leave and occupy himself with another task. 

Everyone is onto some big conspiracy. Whatever the conspiracy is, it involves the hug and Judy and Nick and the odd treatment she’s been witnessing the past week. Which more than frustrates the bunny because, contrary to what they perceive, her and Nick are _not_ dating and are _not_ breaking the officer fraternization policy and are _not_ anything more than just really, really, _really_ good friends…who just so happen to be extremely affectionate around each other. And spend a lot of time together. And argue like an old married couple. And know each other’s coffee order and spiritual beliefs about life and political views and deep secrets that no one else knows. _But that’s beside the point_.

An alarm signaling lunch break blares from her phone, breaking Judy out of her thoughts. She notes the unopened case file on her desk and can't help the immediate feeling of disappointment. Some mammal's child could be missing, or someone’s home could be robbed, or a school could be vandalized—and Judy would have no idea because all she can do is mope around in her cubicle due to her ineptitude to sort through her emotions.

She sighs, hopping down from the desk to trudge over to the breakroom. After lunch hour, she'll do her job. Once she gets her nap in, it'll be easier to focus and take the assignment seriously. On a normal day, Nick plays a large role in keeping her motivated. Given that Thanksgiving is one day away, Bogo is low on officers and must separate everyone to handle more cases, meaning no Nick, thus meaning very lonely and very unmotivated Judy.

It’s almost disturbing how miserable she can be without him.

Co-workers pass by in a daze. Judy’s surroundings appear blurry to her. In a detached sense, she knows officers still glance wearily at her and for some reason avoid her presence. Exhaustion and embarrassment creep up on usually-energetic bunny, urging her to quicken her pace to the breakroom. The less mammals who witness her state, the better.

Reaching the room, there is a fleeting moment of triumph before Judy realizes the medium-sized couch she planned to nap on already has a snoozing occupant. A foxy occupant who lays on his side and whose tail dangles off the cushion. His paws press together to form a pillow for his head and for the second time that week, Judy finds Nick to be absolutely adorable.

The cuteness of it all deters her from poking him. She should leave him, probably. No wonder he’s been MIA for the past few hours. Nick did seem out-of-sorts when he punched in this morning. Perhaps lack of sleep? Lack of caffeine? Or maybe there’s some truth behind the whole “nocturnal instincts” thing.

“I guess I’ll go somewhere else,” Judy murmurs, circling back around to leave.

A mumbled voice interrupts her exit. “Wait…Carr’ts…”

Grey fur stands on end, while Judy turns very slowly back towards Nick.

Emerald orbs open now, the fox smiles at her. Unlike his other smiles, Nick is _actually_ smiling, similar to the kind of smile Judy witnesses only every so often, that only started appearing when Nick graduated the police academy.

Is this what it’s like to melt? Because this room is suddenly very, very, _very_ warm and blood rushes to her puffy cheeks and honestly all Judy wants to do is morph into a puddle that can pass through solid objects so she can get out of this _ridiculously hot_ room without making it obvious how much of an effect watching Nick sleep has on her and _great cabbage_ , _that sounds really creepy no I was most certainly not watching him sleep I was merely debating how to proceed without disturbing him—_

Completely oblivious to her mental dialogue, Nick scoots towards the back of the couch and pats the space before him. “Here,” he states in a quiet voice, “there’s room for two.”

Breath (and composure) leaves her. One of Judy’s eyes twitches at an erratic pace while the other strives to remain stagnant. Her ears point straight up, stiff. Her partner’s smile moves with a slight twitch and changes into a sly grin, fangs sticking out in a not-quite-subtle manner.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Judy doesn’t know what she expresses then, but whatever she’s doing, it causes Nick to burst into rambunctious laughter.

“Carrots—gosh— _I’m kidding_ ,” he wheezes, paws now gripping his stomach. “I wish I had a camera because that face you made would have gone _viral_.”

The moment he laughs, Judy starts to feel somewhat offended.

“You…you _jerk!_ ” she stammers out, clenching her fists. “I should report you for sexual harassment!”

That statements turns his laughs to gasping breaths. He’s guffawing, now, the stupid fox.

_Thump thump thump thump-_

Nick notices her thumping foot, the snickers halting. “Sorry,” he apologizes, attempting (and failing) to smother the giggles in his throat.

Judy glares. “My feelings aren’t a joke, you know.”

At her stern voice and glowering eyes, concern replaces all of Nick’s humor.

“Hey, just trying to lighten the mood. You look tired,” he points out. His eyes roam over her, most likely judging her current state, which she already knows is out-of-whack.

Annoyance disappearing, she mutters in a dreary tone, “Rough week.”

Nick nods and returns to his original position on the couch. He offers again, “We can share the space. I don’t mind.” After hesitating, Nick adds, “I really was just messing with you before. Honest.”

Judy doesn’t need her radar-like hearing to note the slight hint of desperation in Nick’s voice. Though the fox puts up a strong demeanor, Judy knows there’s sensitivity and fragility underneath all his layers. The slightest chance of rejection, the tiniest action that conveys some form of dislike, Nick automatically assumes mammals will leave him. Judy has her own issues with loneliness, but Nick has _scars_ , scars from a father that abandoned him and a society that stereotyped him all his life.

Without a word, the bunny jumps onto the proffered space and lays down on her side, facing away from him, leaving a chaste inch between her back and Nick’s chest. Blood rushes to her cheeks, but she ignores it and tries to fall asleep. Really, nothing weird about this. Her and her siblings have cuddled together multiple times. Not like Nick is physically _touching_ her.

Of course, as karma would have it, the moment Judy thinks it, a body crosses the space between them and scuttles up to her, heat emanating from under his police uniform and seeping through hers. Lavender orbs widen at the touch and resist the temptation to glance backwards. Seconds pass, then two strong, muscular arms ( _oh the ZPA has done_ wonders _to Nick’s physique_ ) worm around her midsection, pulling her even closer to him. Judy feels the underside of his maw cuddle the space between her ears, feels a bushy tail curl from under her feet up towards her chest. Long, lithe legs intertwine with hers, almost rooting her in this position, in this spot.

All of Nick’s body is curled around her, encasing her in a circle of fox limbs, and fox fur, and _fox fox fox a fox is balled up around me and we’re at work and what if Bogo what if CLAWHAUSER sees I need to stop this push him away and—_

She gingerly reaches out for his tail with both her paws so she can hold onto it as she would with one of her plush bunnies. Releases her tension. Droops her ears. Closes her eyes. Part of her is freaking out, but the rest of her is so tired from this week and too mentally gone to act professional. The precinct is low on staff this week. Only one or two officers max are granted the same lunch break—meaning only her and Nick have this hour to themselves. Her ears don’t pick up on any co-workers nearby or any hooves/paws waltzing in their direction.

 _We’re best friends anyway. Best friends are allowed to nap together. On the same couch. In the same space. Touching one another. Platonically_.

It sounds more like an excuse than actual reasoning, but Judy falls deeper into her doze and can’t care less. Puffs of Nick’s breath breeze over the top of Judy’s head and it feels…pleasant. Like the purr rumbling in his chest. Like the body heat transferring from his chest to her back. Like the sharp claws that trace light circles in her fur. Strange, Judy should probably be nervous, being caged within the arms of her natural enemy, her natural _predator_.

If anything, she feels more secure, more reassured that those sharp claws would rather protect her and push her from a flying bullet (an incident that has already occurred and proven Nick’s loyalty to her) than ever scratch at her or harm her in any way.  

Behind her, Nick whispers, “Is this…okay?”

The question snaps her out of the doze. Judy’s mouth is dry, unable to form a response.

He adds in the midst of her silence, “I don’t…I need…This is how foxes comfort their…uh…close friends and relatives.”

The confession jolts her. She tries squirming around to see him but Nick holds her in place.

“Don’t move. I’m comfy.”

A beat. Awkward silence.

“I…don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or to make things weird. I just…I don’t know how to…”

Judy realizes that Nick has word vomited more emotions in the past minute than in the past year _and she still has yet to respond to him_.

“Nick,” she cuts off his rambling, trying to sound soothing with her words, “it’s fine. I, uh, didn’t know it was a fox thing.”

He hesitates before admitting, “It’s called contact comfort. Canine thing, more so than fox thing.”

“Contact comfort?”

“Yeah. Imagine the need to hold onto a stuffed animal in order to fall sleep but, like, times a thousand. And with actual mammals.”

“Hm. The more you know.”

“Yeah,” he teases, chest releasing a tense breath, “the more you know.”

Later, Judy knows she will reflect on this new piece of information. Contact comfort. A canine thing. Instinctual. Done between family members and friends. Nothing…more. Nothing serious. Nothing sensual. She had a feeling this was just a cultural thing, something she doesn’t know or is aware of. It makes sense now: the hug, the jacket, the purring, the touchy-feely-ness. She still questions certain things, like why he acts so touchy-feely _now_ and why it’s only _towards her_. But her curiosity is satisfied…

For the time being.

Abating the worry and concern, she tightens her grip on his tail and buries her face into the velvety fur. Judy thinks she hears a noise from Nick, but ignores it. He said he needs contact comfort to fall asleep. Said that it was to comfort her. Said that he’s comfy. Well, she intends on taking full advantage of his confession.

Because, whether Nick knows it or not, she’s really comfy too. Will she freak out later, after gaining proper rest time and finding a sensible piece of mind? Most likely. Is there a chance someone will catch what they’re doing and make the atmosphere even _worse_ than how it’s been this whole week? Oh, for sure. Honestly, though, Judy has never felt so secure, never so comfortable, and within just a few moments drifts off into a dreamless nap.

Unconsciously, a content smile forms on her muzzle.


	5. Sniff and Sound

Thanksgiving turns out to be a bad day.

Not a typical, first world problem bad day. No. Bad day, as in—

“ZPD! Paws up!”

 _Shocker,_ the squirrel sneaking diamonds from the jewelry store _ignores her_ and _proceeds to run away_. Do all thieves follow the trope, or is the thought of a bunny cop just that ludicrous to them that they don’t take her seriously?

...To preserve her dignity, Judy leaves her inner musings unanswered.

Bogo has a particular reason for assigning Judy to patrol Savannah Square that day. With Thanksgiving comes the preparation of Black Friday. With Black Friday come the throngs of tourists and native citizens near the shops. With giant crowds come the select (typically smaller and thus more subtle) mammals who think they can pocket some of the merchandise before anyone notices.

Select mammals who, clearly, don’t know Judy Hopps very well.

For the third time in 4 hours –

( _no exaggeration, before it was a raccoon pickpocketing wallets and before **that** it was an elephant stashing cell phones up his trunk)_

– the bunny runs past (and in some cases, _under_ ) screeching mammals. The squirrel is fast—but Judy knows _she’s faster_. Adrenaline starts kicking in, making her strides longer and legs quicker. Lavender eyes narrow in determination. The old kudo who moves slower than a sloth, the group of jogging zebras that refuse to separate, the peacock whose giant feathers block the squirrel out of sight—they are all hurdles on a track, hurdles that Judy ducks and jumps over with ease.

“In the name of the law, I demand that you cease at once, thief!”

Despite her bellow, the squirrel continues running, at one point twisting into a sharp turn down an alley way. Only seconds behind, Judy pivots down the same street, kicking her feet off the building wall afterward to propel her forward with more momentum. She radios in the burglary, afterward hearing Higgins copy her current position and affirm that he’s on his way to the area.

Distance between the two mammals lessens. Judy can start to make out details about the culprit: female, late 20s-early 30s, tawny fur, dark brown tail. Nervous blue eyes risk glancing back, and Judy glimpses the alarmed expression on the squirrel’s face.

_Still think I’m just a dumb bunny?_

Foregoing the taser, Judy grabs the cuffs, a plan springing to her head. Though she’s not a wiz when it comes to mapping out Zootopia, Nick’s lessons have paid off in improving her navigational skills. If she’s right –

(which she probably is)

–then the squirrel will soon approach the small intersection between Meadowson Avenue and Treevana Street. Traffic always invades that location, especially during the holiday season. In order to avoid crossing the busy streets that would block her in with Judy, the thief will _have_ to turn right, and then she'll be headed towards…

A grin worms its way on the rabbit’s face. _Perfect_.

Muscled bunny legs tense in anticipation, before they hop onto one of the metal ladders hanging off the side of a brick building. She scrambles up them at a rapid pace and when she reaches the roof, she runs past a few billboards and signs. By the time she reaches her destination—edge of a pizza parlor roof—Judy has the squirrel in her sights. The female casually strolls along the sidewalk, probably assuming that Judy couldn't keep up with her.

_Hmph. As if._

Judy considers the situation and eyes the squirrel's current position. Not yet. Too many pedestrians are near the thief. She waits a moment, analyzing the crowds. An opening forms, and the squirrel is about to enter it in...t _hree…two…_

She jumps. Scenery blurs by in the short period of her free fall. Few seconds pass, and then Judy’s _there_ , right in front of the startled culprit. Shock paralyzing the squirrel, there's not enough reaction time for her to avoid the handcuffs Judy snaps around her wrists.

_Click._

“Ma’am, you are under arrest for robbing Panthera Jewelry and noncompliance with law enforcement! Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to remain silent—”

Oh, this squirrel’s facial expression is _priceless_. Judy tries not to smirk. Animals surrounding them applaud the arrest, a few bold ones making some wisecracks about stealing.

“ _Higgins to_ _Hopps, your location?”_   The voice is fuzzy amongst the static.

“Front of Lenny’s pizza parlor. I've secured the thief.”

“ _All right. One minute away."_

Considering the squirrel’s small frame, Judy finds no difficulty in gripping the burglar's arms in her paws. Bunny muscles may not be useful for securing larger animals in cuffs, but the female is shorter and thinner than Judy, lacking muscle definition. It's kind of nice, being able to  _physically_ arrest somebody for once.

Judy doesn't resist the smirk. “So. Any Black Friday plans? Aside from jail?”

The squirrel glares out of the corner of her eye.

“I take that as a no, then. You know, there are more productive ways of spending a Thanksgiving afternoon.”

Still, no response. Hm. Criminals typically complain more.

Shrieks ringing behind her are Judy’s only warning. In hindsight, she should’ve known better than to preen. As many of her trainers at the academy have said before: **_Confidence_** _not **cockiness**_.

Forceful paws shove Judy to the ground, the action catching her off guard. She cries out as she skids across the pavement, a burning sensation emanating from her right thigh. _Great. Another leg injury. Radishes, it’s bleeding too._ From her place on the ground, she watches the squirrel dart away with paws still in cuffs and a ferret tugging her forward. _Even better. The thief has an accomplice!_ Citizens around her are panicking and screaming out for help. _Ah, icing to the cake: crowd panic. Got to love it._

Higgins barrels across the sidewalk, his hulking form helping to dispel the barrier of citizens around Judy.

“Hopps!” he shouts, hand lowering to assist her, “Are you all right?”

Judy tries to stand and her legs nearly buckle at the pain. Oh, right, the leg injury. How could she forget?

Blush marring her cheeks, she mumbles to Higgins, “I think I’m going to need stitches.”

The hippo raises his eyebrows and skims over her form. He catches sight of the gash and winces in sympathy. “Ouch. Ferret must’ve carved a chunk of skin out with a knife. I was chasing him on my way here. Can you walk?”

She shakes her head. “I might need assistance to the cruiser.”

“Oi, Wilde won’t be happy.”

No, no he will not, and the thought of having to deal with his annoying overprotectiveness brings a groan out of Judy. 

“I can’t believe I let them get away,” Judy grumbles.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Higgins grins. “You know there’s a reason Bogo doesn’t keep us too far apart, right?”

Judy’s head cocks to the side. “What do you mean?”

"I saw the ferret heading towards you and had a feeling we'd need backup."

A crackle comes over the radio.

“ _Fangmeyer to dispatch. Snatched up a ferret and squirrel with some jewels. Jeez, one of these are probably worth more than my annual salary. Bringing them to the station now.”_

Jaw dropping, Judy frantically pulls the walkie off her belt and stares at it in amazement.

“ _By the way, kudos on the prep-arrest, Hopps. Miss. Busher was already nice and cuffed for me._ ”

Eye peeled to the walkie, Judy keeps staring at it, until the words finally process and she pumps a fist in the air. Woot! She hadn’t failed her duty!

Higgins remarks, “Don’t get too excited.” Smirk on his face, he states over the walkie, “Higgins to dispatch, Hopps needs a hospital visit. Nothing serious, but we’ll be abandoning our post for the time being.”

As though summoned by the words, Nick responds over the radio, breaking formal protocol. “ _WHAT? Higgins, what’s your status, where’s your location, how bad is it, is she conscious—”_

“I hate you,” Judy deadpans to her co-worker, following up with a glare. Nick keeps rambling his concern over the speaker. “You are a monster.”

“He would’ve found out anyway.”

“Yeah, but at least I would’ve had a moment of peace before the storm hit.”

He shrugs, though Judy spots a small dimple on his face. Uh-huh, “ _he would have found out anyway_ ” her tail.

Reluctantly, Judy answers over the walkie, “Nick, it’s okay. I’m headed to Zootopia General Hospital now. I’ll meet up with you later.”

Of course, this doesn’t deter Nick, and he replies with a reprimand about reckless endangerment and a reassurance about how he’ll see her at the hospital.

Gripping Higgins’ arm for support, Judy limps alongside him towards the police cruiser, stationed a block down. They tag-team to reassure citizens _everything is fine_ and _yes the thieves have been caught_ and _no, being a witness doesn’t give you a discount for tomorrow_.

“Hey, Hopps?”

Judy glances up.

“Hm?”

“Good luck.”

Even though he says it with the intention of well wishes, Judy just knows that he’s mocking her situation on the inside.

* * *

“Nick.”

“Judy.”

“ _Nick._ ”

“ _Judy_.”

A groan.

“Nick, you are _not_ carrying me out of this hospital.”

“Stop being stubborn. The doctors said—”

“The doctors said that I could _walk on my own just fine_.”

“ _In a few days_.”

“Exactly why I have,” Judy pauses to gasp, “ _crutches_. _Wow_ what a _concept_.”

“They said there’s still a chance you could rip open your stitches!”

“Yeah. A 3% chance, Slick.”

 Sigh. “Judith. Must you be difficult?”

“ _You’re_ the one being difficult— ** _Nicholas Piberius Wilde_** _, sniff that wound **one** more time, I **dare** you_.”

“I’m just _checking_ on you.”

“No, you’re just psyching yourself out more. God, you’re worse than my Dad.”

“Forgive me for being a _concerned friend_.”

“You’re being _overly_ concerned and you know it.”

“…”

“…”

“Can I just—”

“ _STOP SNIFFING IT.”_

“It’s a—”

“I don’t _care_ if it’s a ‘fox thing’, you’ve been doing it for the past two hours. _It’s annoying_.”

“ _You’re_ annoying.”

A huff. “Fine. Leave then.”

“No.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“Carrots, listen for one second.”

“If this is another argument about carrying me out of the hospital and taking me to your apartment, I swear to God I will taser you.”

Snort. “Fine. I’ll just wait till the drugs hit.”

“…”

“…”

“If I wake up in your apartment, _I promise_ you won’t have fur the next day.”

 _Grumble grumble._ “Stubborn bunny.” _Grumble grumble_.

“Stupid fox.”

“…Can we compromise?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Caaaaaarrrrroooootttsssss—”

“Nick, you’re on my last nerve.”

“Okay, since you _refuse_ to let me help you walk, can you at least stay at my place? Just for a little?”

“…”

“It’s a shorter distance to the precinct! _And_ I’ll cook for you every day. _And_ I can rewrap the bandages for you.”

“Nick, the wound’s not even that bad. The doctors only want me on crutches _just in case_ —“

“Exactly _!_ _Just in case_ you start bleeding out or the stitches come undone you’re going to need someone there!”

A drawn out groan.

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a maybe.”

“I’ll get the couch ready.”

“Nick, I didn’t agree to anything.”

“You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch. I’ll even set up—”

“Nick, I don’t need to take your bed!”

“I know this great salad place we can go to for dinner.”

“You don’t need to buy me food either! Your kitchen is fine.”

Pause. Smirk. “So. You agree to stay at my place?”

“…”

“…”

“Get out of this room before I kick you with my good leg.”

“But—”

“ _Out._ ”

“Fine.”

“…”

“...”

“ _STOP SNIFFING THE DAMN WOUND._ ”

* * *

The return to Nick’s apartment is…interesting, to say the least.

Judy wouldn’t have noticed if not for the terrorized looks mammals send her way. Each mammal that so much as _glances_ at her suddenly darts away from her like she’s a contagious infection. Don’t get her wrong—Judy _hates_ when mammals undermine her—but for others to _fear_ her like that? It’s…strange. Unnerving. And severely misplaced considering she’s a pretty friendly bunny and tends to always give others a smile when she makes eye contact.  

Not to mention that she’s on _crutches_ and couldn’t dole out a can of whoop-tail even if she wanted to.

She scans herself over. Did she leave a weapon on her? Is it the police uniform? Unless it’s someone else…

Out of curiosity, she peeks over at Nick—

And nearly halts dead in her tracks because in place of his sparkling emerald eyes are intimidating black beads. 

Against her will, her nose starts twitching.

“Nick…?” she asks, caution lacing her tone.

As he cranes his head down towards her, the cold mask melts away and leaves behind a warm, gentle smile. “What’s up, Carrots?”

She blinks at the transformation. _What the…_

“Uh…” Act normal, act normal, _act normal_. “Are you…okay…now?”

Nick’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…um…” Yes, Judy. Just keep sputtering. Maybe mumble more. Not odd or suspicious behavior at all. “Just…uh…about your shift! Was it…okay? You’re…okay…right?”

The fox snorts, a grin creeping its way onto his face. “The bunny who got _stabbed with a knife_ is asking _me_ if I’m okay.”

While he laughs the question off and tension dissipates, the image of Nick’s murderous stare burns in the back of Judy’s mind the rest of the way home.

* * *

Judy loves Nick. Really, she does. She appreciates everything he does for her, and the fact that he’s so concerned about her health that he’s willing to house her and treat her like some sort of princess is, admittedly, kind of sweet.

Though, as Nick presses his nose against her wrapped leg for the _nth_ time, Judy finds it harder and harder to hold back from punching him the snout.  

“Will you cut it out?” she snaps, arms crossed. Only a few hours have passed since she’s been discharged from the hospital, and Nick still treats her likes she’s about to break any moment. She agreed to stay in his apartment, not tolerate a mother hen.

Flattened ears and wide eyes almost make Judy feel guilty. _Almost_.

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

She sighs. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Nick nods, eyes trained on the bandage. “And you haven’t felt any of the stitches come out?”

“Nope. Not one.”

He pauses long enough that Judy thinks he’s done fretting over her. Then, “You _swear_ you’re comfortable?”

Judy groans, dragging her fingers through her eyelids. “Nick. How many times are we going to have this conversation? I’m fine!”

Finally – _finally_ – Nick slips off the bed. Judy watches from her spot, right in the center of a fortress of fluffy pillows, underneath layers upon _layers_ of blankets. His pupils begin to dilate, eyes becoming more black than green, the white irises receding. It unnerved Judy the first time she witnessed it, during their trip to his apartment. After some pondering, she finally understands the look for what it is.

 _Protection_.

Right now, Judy reads him well enough to know he refrains from crossing the distance and acting as a mammalian shield for the rest of the night. No matter how many times she reassures him, Nick treats her as though she comes with a label: _Caution: Fragile. Handle with care_. She wishes he would tone it down a notch and put more faith in her ability to take care of herself.

“Nick,” she tries, providing a calm smile, “I promise, I’m fine. You’ve done so much for me already, I couldn’t be any more comfortable.”

His expression remains the same.

She supposes it can’t hurt to compromise. Sighing, she surrenders. “All right. _Once_ more.”

Nick’s tail perks at the words and her partner crawls over the pillows to hover his snout right above the bandage. With a gentleness Judy never expected of him, he removes the cloth and exposes the deep gash on her thigh. Nick breathes in, deep, nose very close to the wound. As he exhales, puffs of air drift across the open injury and chill Judy’s skin and fur. The sensation causes her to shiver. It’s not unpleasant, per se, but it feels very…er…intimate. _Too intimate_.

His eyes are half green and half black, somewhat reverted back to normal. He sniffs all around the area, an occasional growl slipping past his lips. Judy knows he’s upset that she’s injured. How could she be guilty about that, though? It’s their _job,_ their _career_. Danger and risk are two occupational hazards for any cop, especially ones at the most esteemed precinct in all of Zootopia. If anything, he should be grateful it wasn’t a _gun_.

(because that’s happened before and Nick shoved her out of the way just in time and Judy’s pretty sure if she actually got hit he would have had a conniption and been put on suicide watch)

“See?” Judy encourages. “It’s healing. No pain. Everything’s good.”

Completely green eyes now. Judy wonders if Nick even realizes when it happens.

“If you say so,” he mutters, rewrapping the bandage. He flips the light switch right before he retreats into the living room. “Give me a holler if you need anything.”

The bunny releases a sigh of relief and allows herself to sink under the covers and unwind. Nick’s king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and fancy-schmancy mattress topper is like a cloud compared to Judy’s small, twin-sized bed at her apartment. Pillows of all kinds—fluffy pillows, sturdy pillows, feather pillows—circle around her (“You need options,” Nick had said). She grabs one, wrapping an arm around it and inhaling the scent. Musky. Like Nick.

The scent jumpstarts her reflection over Nick’s strange overprotectiveness. Not that Nick never shows care and concern for her, but it’s usually not this… _blunt_. The fox prefers to be discreet and subtle with his affections, hence their standard banter and wisecracks. _Don’t let them get to you_ , he always claims.

Does she get to him, then?

Noise from the TV outside lulls Judy to sleep, leaving the question unresolved.


	6. Inner Curl-moil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Judy has an epiphany about her feelings for a certain fox.

Despite her outward protests (most of which are made in jest anyway), living with Nick…is pretty nice.

Every morning, Judy wakes up to various dishes of food that cover the entirety of the kitchen table. Soy omelets, sautéed spinach, blueberry pancakes, home-cooked hash browns—Nick has it ready, waiting for her. To Judy’s astonishment, the food is  _delicious_. By radishes, it’s a step up from  _her mom_ ’ _s_ cooking, which already sets a pretty high standard, especially given the fresh ingredients at Bonnie’s disposal.

Nick doesn’t forget the coffee either, always brewing it the way Judy likes it—bitter, with a pinch of sweetness included.

Movie Mondays transform into Movie Weekdays. Nutflix contains a plethora of titles to choose from, and the two partners make it a mission to watch every single one, regardless of how tacky or cheesy they may be. Nick and Judy swap turns to select a movie, and whoever doesn’t pick has to make popcorn for the night. The new routine is definitely an improvement from Judy’s usual source of nightly entertainment—her neighbors.

Speaking of neighbors, Nick’s neighbors are so  _quiet_. The serenity of his apartment soothes her, and Judy marvels at how she’s survived this long with such horrible apartment comrades.

Walking to work requires less time now. Nick wasn’t lying earlier. The trip  _is_ shorter, meaning Judy can sleep in a little extra and take her time in the morning. Or, if she’s feeling extra perky and her leg doesn’t ache too much, she can go jogging right before work. Nick joining in her exercise is an added bonus, especially since he has no difficulty keeping up with her, even in the cold weather.

Fights occur for stupid reasons. Reasons like:  _Where’s the remote? How should I know—you had it last!_ Or:  _Nick, I have to pee, you’ve been in the bathroom for HOURS! Yeah, well, good looks require time and effort._ Yet, Judy doesn’t really mind. To be frank, their fights are no different than their usual arguments, and their minor disagreements tend to be forgotten easily.

Days pass. Judy realizes that she needs to leave at some point, and a little pit of dread forms in her stomach at the thought of returning to her apartment,  _alone_. Guilt gnaws at her—Nick hasn’t mentioned anything yet, but surely he must be annoyed with her at this point? He cleans up after her, cooks vegetarian dishes for her, even spares his bed for the sake of her comfort. Because of Judy’s recent injury, they’re not allowed any big cases or action-packed tasks for some time, meaning lots and  _lots_ of paperwork and traffic duty. Both at work and at home, Nick takes the hit for her.

One night, after a particularly boring shift of never-ending paperwork, Judy gathers the courage to ask him.

“Nick…you…you know you can kick me out whenever, right?”

They’re in the middle of eating dinner together, and her question causes him to choke on his mouthful of food. She waits for his answer, too nervous to add anything else.

Nick clears his throat. “Judy you’re…you’re welcome anytime, really.” He ends his response with a genuine smile.

While her ears droop in relief, she still feels compelled to mention, “I know, but, I don’t want to-to impose or-or annoy you, and, I mean, my leg is pretty much healed...”

“You’re not imposing. You don’t annoy me.” Nick’s tone is matter of fact. His eyes bore into hers. “You are welcome here whenever you want. Really. Whenever. Injury or no injury.”

Judy opens her mouth to counteract him, but he stands up and grabs their plates to bring them over to the sink. Back facing her as he cleans the spaghetti squash off their dishes, she can’t read his expression.

_Moody fox._

Judy sighs. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he comes back immediately.

* * *

 

It happens on a Wednesday, almost two weeks since the first night Judy slept over Nick’s place. The initial plan was to return back home –

(it’s weird thinking of her apartment as  _home_  now)

– on Tuesday, but at Nick’s insistence Judy prolongs her departure until the weekend.

9:00 PM. No work tomorrow. Meaning plenty of time for a Nutflix movie and popcorn. It’s her turn tonight, so Judy decides on  _A Bark to Remember_ , recalling the recommendation from her sister a few weeks ago while Muzzletiming her parents.

Judy lays back against the sofa, engrossed in the movie, eyes wide and alert. Her paw absentmindedly pets through the fluffy tox tail curled around her torso. For warmth purposes, Judy had accepted this new development a while ago, not paying any mind to the position it puts her and Nick in, where their bodies are only an inch apart and close enough that she can hear his heartbeat.

Of course, within the first hour of the movie, Judy feels the cushion of the couch dip with the growing slackness of Nick’s body. Every so often she will glance over to check if he’s still awake, surprised that his eyes are, in fact, open. Though, judging by his blank expression, they won’t be for long.

The second hour is what does him in. Jane is in the middle of confessing about her terminal illness when a muzzle nudges against Judy’s shoulder. Breath hitches in her lungs, and Judy risks peeking at the fox leaning against her like she’s a personal pillow, noting that Nick has officially conked out. Hm, that’s odd, Nick’s heartbeat is practically racing—

_Oh, wait, that’s just me._

She gulps, throat drying up. Moving away, turning off the movie, and retiring to the bedroom for the night would be a practical decision, but Nick looks so…so…so  _peaceful_. It would be rude to bother him, right? Maybe she should just wait till the end of the movie…Once the movie’s over, she’ll prop him back along the couch, tuck him under some blankets, and go to bed. Yep. Good plan, Judy, good plan.

Bad plan, Judy, bad plan, because apparently Nick moves around in his sleep. After fifteen minutes, Nick shifts so that he’s curling around her entire body, forming an ‘O’ shape and caging her in. Judy feels his chest expanding against her back, the nightshirt riding up his belly and creating friction between their furs. Nick’s tail acts as both a blanket around her stomach and a pillow for his head, which happens to be positioned right above Judy’s lap, giving her a view of the cute expression on his face.

There she goes again: calling a fox cute. Sweet cheese and crackers, has Nick always been this flexible? How is that even comfortable? It looks so unnatural, maybe she should stand up. Yeah, she’ll get up now so that he can spread out across the whole couch—

Except when she tries to shift out of his curling, a soft growl emits from his throat. The sound freezes Judy in place, her eyes darting to his face. Eyes are still closed, but now there’s a fang poking out from his muzzle. Nick wiggles his body and flicks his tongue out a few times, before ceasing movement altogether.

_do not panic do not panic do not panic do not panic do not panic do no panic_

Everything is fine. Really. Nick will wake up soon, Judy can rationally explain how they resulted in this compromising position, and then Nick won’t think she’s a pervert taking advantage of him in his sleep and  _nothing_ will be weird, and they’ll go back to their relatively normal lives as best friends and police partners and—

—and his nose twitches now. Judy watches, enraptured by the look of intense concentration on his face. He seems to be sniffing the air. She knows foxes tend to have a better sense of smell than bunnies, so maybe he’s aware of her scent? Oh, this is good, perhaps her scent will make him confused about his sleeping position and force him to wake up to question his surroundings. Yes, yes, this is good. Really, really—

His body coils more tightly around her, and a deep, rumbling purr vibrates from his chest.

She deflates, slumping against his stomach. Or maybe she can accept that this is where she’ll be sleeping for the night and stop getting her hopes up. Not that there’s anything wrong with sleeping like this –

(Nick is actually really super-duper cuddly and soft and warm and pleasant and musky and nice and safe and)

– but she can’t help but feel that this all inappropriate, somehow, especially since Nick’s not even  _conscious_ of it.

She frowns, staring at his face. Fox ears twitch in front of her and catch her attention. Still eyeing him, Judy purses her lips, buck teeth biting down on the inner skin. She shouldn’t. She really, really shouldn’t.

Nick’s pointed ears twitch again. Judy reaches out towards the appendages, paws hovering right above them.

“Nick?” she tests, voice barely above a whisper.

No response.

Succumbing to the most sporadic urge she has ever felt, Judy places her fingerpads at the back of Nick’s ears. Blunt claws meander past thick fur and graze the hidden skin underneath. Her mother used to do this for her, for when Judy and her siblings had nightmares or experienced a rough day.

As she begins scratching, the purr from earlier deepens. The fox releases tiny noises, sounds that form some strange concoction of moaning, snoring, and panting. Judy continues the scratching treatment, all the while measuring Nick’s reactions with a scrutinizing stare. If he wakes up, she’s screwed.

She continues anyway.

One paw stops scratching his ear in favor of combing nails through his tail. Perverse pleasure courses through her, pushing her to please him and coax more purrs and sounds out. A blush coats her cheeks and she hates how much she enjoys doing this, hates how she enjoys the kinds of reactions she’s causing him.

The unexpected tongue licking her hand is what derails the train of desire. Ice and panic travel throughout Judy’s body, halting her movements as she observes Nick subconsciously licking the hand that had been petting his tail. After she processes what’s happening, Judy rips her paw away from him, holding it to her chest.

_Wrong wrong wrong this is SO WRONG._

Uncaring whether it wakes Nick up or not, Judy shoves his head off her lap and rushes to the bedroom. Once inside, she slams the door, foregoes brushing her teeth and changing into PJs, and tries to burrow herself under the covers. Layers of blankets protect her from what she just did, protect her from the fox outside this room that just  _does_ things to her mind and her…heart.

Her body shakes. No noise or moving sounds emanate from outside the door.  _Good, he’s still passed out._  Judy closes her eyes and regulates her breathing.  _One, two, three….one, two, three…_

That night, she doesn’t sleep.

* * *

 

During the final few days at Nick’s place, a disturbing epiphany dawns on Judy.

It’s small, at first. Nick will hand over a cup of coffee in the morning, and Judy will flush at the brief friction between their furs. Nick will tuck Judy in and go to lay on the couch, and Judy will visualize a fantasy where Nick  _doesn’t_ go on the couch and lays in the bed next to her. Nick will sniff at her (pretty much completely healed) wound, and Judy will pretend to be annoyed when, in actuality, she enjoys the proximity of their bodies.

She brushes off these weird instances as her way of appreciating the attention.  _It could be anyone_ , she reasons,  _and I would want them to be around me, too. It’s just for the attention_.

Those small things? Yeah. They start evolving into  _bigger_ things. Like staring at Nick’s shirtless chest way longer than she should be in the morning. Or taking a shower and contemplating whether she should ask him to join her. Lying in bed and imaging what it would be like for his paws to roam over her body, for his tongue to lick her fur again and to feel that nice, sensual purr that Judy  _craves_.

All those years of thinking interspecies relationships to be odd— _and here she is fantasizing about getting in Nick’s pants; Nick, a predator._

How is this even possible? She grew up in  _Bunnyburrow_ , the most conservative, small-minded town on the  _planet_. Where if you weren’t a bunny, you were prey, and if you weren’t prey, you were one of the  _only_  predators in the entire  _county_. She had crushes on bucks in high school! Jimmy Whiskers! Alex Bunnymund! Matt Thumper!

A disease takes control of Judy, curbing her desire for other bunnies into a desire for  _Nick_. Not foxes. Not predators.  _Just Nick._

She shouldn’t have watched the darned movie with him.  _Stupid, unconscious foxes with their stupid, unconscious sleeping positions with their stupid, unconscious adorable faces._ How embarrassing, catching feelings for your best friend who freaks out just by  _hugging_ you, never mind doing something  _romantic_ with you.

Judy’s mind is a train wreck. She scrabbles to remember how these feelings originated…after they became partners? Their first movie night hanging out? When Nick started  _purring_? Unless she’s had these feelings for a while and living with Nick has only now just made her conscious of them.

Nick’s shout from outside the bedroom door interrupts her panicked thoughts.

“ _Juuuuuuuudy, I’m about to shower so you have five minutes to take care of any bathroom needs. Speak now or forever hold your peeeeace!”_

She groans from underneath the covers, paw rubbing at her forehead. God help her, Nick spends more time prepping himself in the bathroom than her make-up obsessed teenage sisters. Unless she plans on holding her bladder for another four hours, she needs to get up,  _now_.

“ _Ugh, I’m coming!”_ she hollers back, shivering when she slips out from the blankets. Padding into the main room that connects the kitchen and living room, she closes the bedroom door behind her and glares at the fox setting up the table.

“You haven’t even finished eating breakfast yet.”

“Had to get you awake somehow.”

Her jaw drops. “So you  _lied_?”

“Yeah, because I was waiting for  _your_ princess tail to start breakfast, Sleeping Beauty.”

 Judy flushes. “I wanted to sleep in today! You know we have the night shift later.”

Nick gasps, pausing in his handout of the silverware. “Judy Hopps? Sleep in?  _On a weekend?”_  He clutches his heart and squeezes his eyes. “My itty bitty bunny is finally leaving behind her prudish tendencies!” He wipes an invisible tear from his eye. “I’m so proud!”

“I hate you,” she mumbles, hopping up on a stool.

“Do you hate me? No. No you do not.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I think the more accurate word is  _loathe_. I  _loathe_  you.”

“My emotional fox heart can’t handle this abuse. Judith, I’m breaking up with you.”

“Good. More blueberry care packages for me.”

“Wow, she takes my house, my heart,  _and_ my food. And everyone thinks foxes are the manipulative ones.”

When he passes by her with napkins, her foot kicks him hard in the shin.

“Emotionally  _and_ physically abusive. Yeesh. Is this why you’re chronically single?”

Trying to cover up her blush, Judy snorts. “I’m chronically single because I hang around a smelly fox all the time.”

Nick bangs his paw on the table in an affronted gesture. “I will have you know that I shower every day!”

“Oh,” she rolls her eyes, “I am aware. You’re like a 13-year-old girl.”

“As Chimpi Minaj would agree, everyone likes someone in touch with their feminine side.”

“Yes, because why  _wouldn’t_ we listen to the almighty words of  _Chimpi Minaj_?”

Done prepping the table, Nick takes a seat across from her and sighs. “I think that is the most intelligent statement you have ever made.”

Judy opens her mouth, but Nick cuts her off before she can form an argument, “So I know you wanted to pack today, but if you don’t finish in time, there’s no problem with staying a few extra days.”

“Nick, I’ve been here for more than two weeks.”

His ears droop behind his head. “Well, yeah, I know, but it’s been…uh…fun having you here. You know, someone to watch atrocious Nutflix movies with and all that.”

Judy stiffens in her seat, avoiding his gaze while her cheeks redden. “I love staying here Nick, but I can’t stay forever.” She offers a weak laugh, and it promptly dies at the frown on Nick’s face.

“I know, I just…” he sighs, toying the fruit with his fork as he trails off.

Judy thinks she knows what he means. In all her years of living at her apartment, it never registered to her how  _lonely_ it could get. Yes, she’s euphoric about not having to share so much living space with 275 rambunctious siblings, but it doesn’t hurt having at least  _one_ mammal around, especially one she has such a close bond with and shares the same living habits as her.

  _Not to mention one you’re currently falling for_.

She shoves the unbidden thought away.

“Hey,” she grins, putting her paw across the table, “look at me.”

Meek green eyes glance to her. Without a word, Nick meets her paw in the middle and holds it in a tight grip.

“I promise I’ll come over more often,” she assures in a soft tone, “and we can have sleepovers and watch cheesy movies and play dorky video games and cook dinners together.”

Nick gives her a crooked grin. “That would be…fun.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Fun.”

The atmosphere grows somewhat awkward in the moments that they pull their paws away from one another. Nick, of course, dissipates the tension by plastering on his conman smile and making bunny jokes at her expense again. Like clockwork, the two fall back into their usual best friend roles, ignoring the brief moment of tenderness from earlier.

The warmth of his paw over hers lingers for the rest of the day.


	7. Interlude: NICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where perspectives are switched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) In case anyone felt this way, I am letting everyone know that I did not reference Nicki Minaj as “Chimpi Minaj” in any sort of offensive way that was made to insult the artist or her race. If you were hurt or offended, I sincerely apologize. I have a long spiel about how, to me, race does not exist or is relevant to Zootopia because they have species and yadda yadda yadda, but that's the shorthand version of it. 
> 
> 2) Very, very, VERY minor/mild cursing in this chapter. Like last chapter, I want to issue a small warning for those that are uncomfortable with anything even slightly above a G rating.

This is karma. It has to be. All those years of pickpocketing on the streets and hustling mammals out of their money—Nick should've known that, later down the line, he'd be screwed. What will his tombstone say? Death by Bunny? Or Death by _these damned hormones_.

His claws scrape against the surface of his kitchen table, leaving thin, almost-imperceptible whites lines along the wood. Three days. It’s been three days since Judy returned to her apartment. Three days since he had an excuse to hover near her and make her breakfast and do things that _mates_ usually do.

Nick can't distinguish emotions from hormones, reality from false hope, true feelings from pressure by his mother to 'find a freaking vixen already and give me grandkits!'

Except, of course, instead of pining after a vixen like any other member of his species, he's pining after Judy Hopps. A rabbit. His "biological" enemy. His natural prey. 

His best friend. 

Half the time he'll realize it too late. He will rub his fur all over her with completely innocent intentions (a hug, a pat on the head, an accident brush of limbs) only to notice _crap my scent is on her my scent is on her does she know oh my god she's going to kill me_ —

Unfortunately or fortunately, she doesn't know. At least, she puts on a good show of not knowing. It's _Judy_ : she is half the most clever, intelligent bunny in the world and half a hopelessly oblivious country bumpkin. Considering his experience with reading (see also: conning) other mammals, one would think he could see through Judy and interpret her better.

Problem is, regardless of how anyone perceives her, Judy _always_ defies expectations, _always_ fights against the norms and strives to prove everyone wrong. For all he knows, he's banking way too much on hope. Hope that she cares, hope that he's good enough for her, hope that _she likes him back._

Clawhauser encourages him from the sidelines, egging on the feelings and hormones and basically ruining the composure Nick tries to pretend that he has. As aware as he is about mating season around the corner, he knows it's not the _only_ reason for his complete and utter lack of control lately. 

Though it certainly plays its role. 

Judy will be reading a newspaper, stressing about a case, filing a report somewhere, and then randomly an odd, but strong, instinct wells up in him to put his snout right _there_ and purr just _so_. God, the other day he freaking _hugged_ her. In the middle of the _station_. In front of _Clawhauser_. He wouldn't be surprised if there's a bet going on about them at this point (which, honestly, he thinks there is, because there is no way Benji's been quiet for this long, no way he could resist gossiping to _someone_ ). 

It's confusing and annoying and humiliating and he misses not caring, he misses not "letting them see that they get to you" and hustling mammals and only depending on himself. 

_(liar)_

But he already crossed over, already fell so badly for her to the point where he relies on her company for stability and genuine happiness. He's doomed—completely, utterly, helplessly—doomed. He doesn't know what he wants anymore. Doesn't know if he wants Judy to solve the puzzle or remain confused. Doesn't know if he wants to completely give into want and temptation and _love_ or continue being his usual jaded, cynical, _alone_ self. 

From experience, being his "usual self" sucks. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Judy.

_Found a new coffee shop that looks promising! You up for it?_

Of course, he accepts the offer. Asks where the place is. Agrees to meet her in 30 minutes even though it’s his Sunday off and only 10 AM. Too much time has passed since they’ve spent time together outside of work. He needs this, as selfish as ‘this’ is.

After he gets ready and right before he leaves, Nick plops onto his bed. Takes a deep breath. Immerses himself in the smell of meadows and grasslands and flowers and _Judy_. Judy’s scent has lingered there for days and he can’t help himself. If he could, he would have her stay in his bed every night, until their scents intermingled and signified an official mateship.

At the turn of his thought process, Nick groans.

 _I’m so screwed_.

* * *

"Hey Nick!" Judy waves him over from the table stationed in the back corner of the coffee shop. The cheerful greeting pushes his anxiety back and allows the fox to plaster a smirk on his muzzle.

_play it cool play it cool you're a fox you're sly you've got this play it cool_

"Carrots," he nods at her once he approaches the table.

She orders him to sit down. "You can actually order a drink while sitting and stay in! I heard their lattes are delicious."

He thinks Judy looks deli—no, do not finish that thought Wilde. Good God, foxes used to eat bunnies and now he’s thinking about how delicious she looks, that is so wrong on so many levels, ugh, why him, why did he get roped into crushing on a rabbit of all mammals, no wonder there’s no pred-prey couples, this shit is so confusing and weird and what if he offends her or—

 Judy rambles on about her possible options, still staring at the menu and oblivious to her partner’s horror-filled face.

"I think I'm going to go with the Carrot Cake cappuccino...never tried it before. Well, then again, I haven’t tried _anything_ from here before so maybe I should try one of their house specials—"

Part of him recognizes the words she says, and the other part struggles against the urge to play pawsie under the table. Or take her paw in his and intertwine their fingers. Or lick her cheek. Or bring her outside so he has an excuse to bundle her up right next to him to create sensual friction between their furs. 

Only five minutes in to a casual coffee meet up and he's already daydreaming about inappropriate things between him and his platonic friend. _Get it together, Wilde_.

Again, he can't separate his true feelings and emotions from the overwhelming instincts to be with the mammal closest to him. Normally he chases after vixens this time of year, vixens who understand his subtle actions on a much deeper level than Judy likely ever will, vixens who experience the same sensations caused by this particular month and thus don't question his advances and don't hesitate in responding to them. 

Thankfully a waitress bounces over to their spot, a brown and white-furred lemur. 

"Hello, welcome to Critter Jitters! My name is Marcy, I'll be your server. Have you decided on drinks yet?"

Her luminous yellow eyes dart back and forth between them. She's smiling, but Nick can detect a hint of curiosity in her appraisal of them. 

Judy grins back. "I think we need a few more minutes. Any recommendations?"

The waitress rattles off a couple of specials and entrees, but Nick tunes her out and fiddles with his paws under the table. That's another issue on his mind: the reactions. Not that there's a high probability of Judy actually returning his affections...

Though...if she did...Nick can't foresee how Zootopia would absorb it. Interspecies relations? No problem. Most are close enough biologically anyway. Homosexual relations? Eh, to each their own. In Zootopia and other cities, population is _certainly_ not an issue. 

Predator-prey relations?

Nick lived in Zootopia his whole life. Grew up there, slinked around every bright and dark corner, met all kinds of mammals—good and bad (mostly bad). Of all the dark secrets Zootopia harbored, a predator and prey relationship was not one of them. It was a line never crossed. Never even considered. Maybe it was the prejudice, maybe the fear of others' reactions, maybe some weird instinctual fear that made it impossible. 

But then, here he is. With Judy now. 

"—and I tried getting out of it, but my mom insisted, so you should come with me. It'll be fun!"

His ears perk up and he blinks, leaving the abyss of his thoughts and returning to the coffee shop with his bunny. Scanning their surroundings, he realizes Marcy has left, probably giving them extra time to decide. 

"Huh?"

He could just _hear_ Finnick mocking him for how much of an idiot he is. 

"Bunnyburrow trip? In a few days? I know it's kind of last minute, but Bogo said there was no issue."

It takes all sense of dignity and willpower not to choke on his own saliva. 

"B-Bunnyburrow?" he stutters. 

Judy nods, sending him a worried look. "Yeah. I know it's not the most... _comfortable_ situation...but my parents really aren't that bad, I swear. I wouldn't invite you otherwise."

 _WAIT_ , she's inviting him to her home? To Bunnyburrow?

Judy furrows her eyebrows while Nick attempts to stop hyperventilating. "Are you okay? You're really...spacey...today."

"Sleep," he blurts, then rushes to explain, "I mean, uh, I didn't sleep. Well. Much. A lot on my mind."

"Like what?" She cocks her head to the side and it's so (Judy forgive him) _cute_. 

"Just...things," he evades. 

She glowers, "Oh, of course. _Things_."

Her lavender orbs turn scrutinizing. He needs to deflect, quick. So he jokes, "Yep, the thing, with the thingy-thing, with the thinggity thingest thing of things. That thing."

Judy giggles and stops glaring at him, for the moment. 

"You better decide fast, the lemur's on her way back over," she says, gesturing behind him. 

When their waitress returns, Judy orders the Carrot Cake whatever-it-was, and Nick randomly picks the only drink with the word "blueberry" in its description. After she leaves, Judy questions, "So are you going?"

He knows the extended invitation serves no greater purpose other than for two friends to hang out and spend time together. Judy probably doesn't realize how he could interpret her offer, how easy it would be for him to count her childhood home as her _den_. To avoid any miscommunication and cultural clash, he should decline the request, give her personal space and time with relatives she doesn't see often enough. 

"Judith Hopps," he states in a mock-dramatic tone, bringing his paw to rest across his heart. "How _dare_ you insinuate I would deny the opportunity to reunite with my one true loves, the blueberries. You insult me with your speciest presumptions."

Yep. Doomed. 

The bunny rolls her eyes. "Oh dear," she deadpans, "will you ever forgive me?"

It would be smart to start panicking and worrying about how badly this whole thing is going to play out. Instead, he laughs along with her, and falls back into the comfort of them just being... _them_. This is why it's harder with her than with vixens. Not just the different hormones and the diverse cultures—no, it's having this...this _friendship_ , that started the love in the first place, back when it was platonic and had no romantic intentions. He doesn't know how to mix the two, how to have both without making her uncomfortable and breaking this amazing connection they have. 

Eventually Marcy returns with their drinks, and they keep conversing while sipping their beverages and even after they're done. They joke, they share puns, they talk about their dreams of being promoted one day, she tells him about Bunnyburrow, he tells her about how he's never seen the countryside. 

When Judy's phone rings with a call, her faces reddens and she hurries to take it while holding up a paw to Nick. 

"Hey Dad, what's up?"

Nick flicks his ears towards the restroom in the back, and nods his head. Judy sends a grateful smile before jumping up to talk in a more private area without the noise of the patrons of the shop. 

Looking out the windows, Nick nearly gapes at how dark it is.

_Oh my God...how long have we been here?_

Like magic, Marcy appears at the table, a slight smile on her face. "Is that all?" she asks, subdued.

"Yeah, I'll take the check for both of us."

She leaves and comes back with a receipt. Nick pulls out fifteen dollars, which is way more than the cost of the order, but he hopes it'll make up for how long they've been there.

"Thanks," he grins, before staring out the window again. 

Nick's in the middle of tracing the shape of blue-grey clouds blocking the moon with his eyes when he hears someone clear their throat.

"Uh...sir...if I may be bold to ask...are you and the bunny dating?"

His eyes widen in shock now at Marcy standing beside him. She gulps at his expression and throws her paws up in a placating gesture. "Hey, not—not in a bad way or anything. I'm a progressive thinker, really. I just thought...it'd be nice if you two were. You guys are cute together."

A knot forms in his throat, preventing any sort of coherent sound to come out. He should shake his head. Laugh it off. Assure her, NO, we are just good friends.

Instead, he answers, "It's complicated." His owns ears detect how hoarse and rough his voice is. Time has passed since Nick could ignore comments like that—since he could manipulate emotions so that they never pertained to him. 

Nick doesn't register when Marcy leaves or how she reacts to his reply. He does notice Judy sauntering over with a frustrated look, phone clutched tightly in hand and ears pointed straight up. 

A twinge in his chest.

_it's starting no no no don't do it we're in public don't do it don't do it no purring allowed_

The rabbit huffs as she plops herself in the chair, body deflating as though energy is being sucked out. Against his will, Nick unsheathes his claws hiding under the table. Fingers flex with barely-held restraint, wanting so desperately to hold her and purr and wrap his tail around her and reassure her and claw whoever dares makes his bunny upset—

That part is the hormones. Mostly. Probably. He thinks. Regardless, he needs to get it together and he needs to do it _now_.

"We should head back!" he blurts out. His voice does not sound hysterical. Or desperate. At all. No, he is not lying to himself. 

"Head back?" she furrows her eyebrows, then glances outside. "Hm...I guess it is late..."

She's mumbling. Judy Hopps, of this Nick is certain, _never_ mumbles. Not unless something bothers her. Not unless—

"Did something happen with your parents?"

A sigh. Translation: Yes. 

"They keep trying to set me up. Really want me to settle down."

Before he can reign his curiosity in, Nick asks, "Why don't you?"

The way her lavender orbs pierce through him makes him want to hide in a box and cringe for asking. IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT dumb fox dumb fox why would you ask that UGH now you're gonna make it awkward and she's going to figure it out and hate you for ruining the friendship and think you’re weird and preysexual and you'll never speak again-—

"Because I'm different." 

He's shocked at both her words and the conviction in her voice. At his lack of response, Judy plows on, "I'm not...I have different priorities. They prioritize marriage and kits, I prioritize my career and friends. We're just very different, and they don't understand it or understand why."

She adds, with a bittersweet expression, "Most of the bunnies they set me up with are just like them. So when we go on these...uh...outings, things don't work out. Most of them think my job is a joke, and those that do respect me want different things than what I want." 

Dispelling the cotton in his throat, Nick wonders out loud, "Like what?"

Judy clears her throat, blushing a little. "You know. Typical bunny stuff. A giant warren, hundreds of kits, living in the countryside. Problem is, I want a life _here_ , in the city. Where I can keep my job and be around mammals who are my actual friends," she pauses, then mutters shyly, "mammals like you."

Statements like _this_ are what cause his heart to swell, cause that jaded side of him to disappear in a fleeting moment and unload a flood of gooey mushy emotions. This is separate from the hormones, this is true and pure _Nick_ , who loves his best friend and loves hearing her say things that make him feel loved and appreciated and trusted. 

Bless his fur color for hiding his blush. 

"It'll be okay," he finds himself assuring. "Listen, if there's anything I know about you, aside from your terrible jokes and disgusting positivity, it's that you are your own bunny. You don't conform to anyone's standards and create your own. Your parents can try all they want to mold you into who they want, but they're going to be seriously disappointed. As much as they love and care, they can't change who you are. You just gotta give them time; they'll catch on eventually. And when they do, they'll accept you, just like they’ve accepted everything else so far."

Words just fly out of his mouth. Is this really him talking, or did the hormones take a course in a therapy and just suddenly fill his body with advice and guidance?

Whatever fuels him to say all that, it makes Judy beam at him with one of the widest grins he's ever seen. 

"You know I love you, right?"

Trying not to choke (again) and ignoring his quickened pulse and clammy fur, Nick changes the topic. "Tell you what. Let's grab some pastries and head back. I'll walk you home."

Only after the walk, when he returns to his apartment alone, does he realize that he needs to survive a weekend in Bunnyburrow with his mate interest during mating season. 

Doomed. Screwed. Most likely on God's shit list. Someone help him.


	8. Friends with Bed-efits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The extremely rushed chapter where the last half is awkwardly worded and needs some intense beta-reading/editing. 
> 
> (Consider this your warning)

“Pssst. Judy.”                                                       

No. Don’t give into it. That’s  _exactly_  what he wants.

“Judy.”

It doesn’t matter how cute his pout is—DO NOT RESPOND DO NOT RESPOND DO NOT RESPOND.

“Juuuuuuuuuudyyyyyyyyy.”

They literally got on this train mere moments ago; he can’t possibly plan on being this annoying already.

“Jude. Jude. Jude. Judy. Judy. Judy. Judith. Judith. Ju. Ju. Ju. Jude. Jude. Jude. Judy. Judy. Judy. Jude the dude. Jude the dude. Judes. Judes. Judes. Judy. Judy. Judith. Judith. Jud—”

“ _WHAAAT_?!?”

The scream echoes throughout the car. Judy notices several animals shift further away from her and Nick. Nick—who blinks at her with an innocent look. Then, he opens his mouth.

“Are we there yet?”

She remains staring at him, chest heaving with angry pants and eyes bulging like a crazy madmammal.

With as much calm as she can muster (because she  _knows_ him and right now, in his mind, the sly fox is getting high off her humiliation) Judy bites out, “Nick, it’s only been  _three minutes_  since we boarded the train.”

He continues to stare at her with a blank expression, as though she just told him the elaborate details of hydrocarbon reactivity in organic chemistry. 

“…So are we there yet?”

Don’t give in. Don’t react. Otherwise, he wins. Take a deep breath. In…and out. Reign in the anger. Don’t let him get to you.

“Nick, it takes a lot longer than  _three minutes_ to get to Bunnyburrow from Zootopia.”

Silence.

“…So like five minutes?”

“Nicholas.”

“Sorry.”

But he’s not. Not really.

It’s silent for a while, but unfortunately it doesn’t last.

“Are we there  _now_?”

There’s only one way to settle this.

Judy smiles wide. Wraps her arm around his shoulder. Leans in closely to his ear. In a low voice dripping with false sweetness, she says, “Listen you dumb, egotistical, smarmy jack-fox. I know exactly what you’re planning. You’re going to ask me over and over again the stupid trope of-” An exaggerated impression of a dumb-sounding, male voice, “- _Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?_  You’re going to keep doing it so many times until it drives me crazy and I look like some psychopathic rabbit who forgot to take her meds. I’m going to get super, super frustrated—while inwardly you’re cackling like the crazed maniac you are. Because unlike normal, civilized mammals with compassion and love in their hearts, you get some joyride out of annoying the living crud out of every species in Zootopia—not because you’re a fox, not because you’re sly—no, because you’re Nicholas Piberious Wilde, and you originated from some corner far in the depths of Hell and was sent here with the intent to ruin the life of any mammal who meets you by annoying them so much that they would rather cut out their lungs than hear another stupid word come out of your stupid mouth.

“Well it ain’t happening today, Slick. No. Starting right this moment, we are both going to sit on this train in pleasant, blissful silence, and give the perfect impression of normal, cordial strangers just casually taking a ride out to the country. For the rest of this god-forsaken train ride, you will quietly sit there or so help me I will take my large rabbit foot and shove it so far up where the sun doesn’t shine that you’ll be bedridden for the next three years.”

She pulls away, grin still in place. Her ears pic

k up on the dramatic increase in Nick’s heartrate, and  _Mother Earth_  Judy could cry from self-pride.

The rest of the train ride passes without a hitch.

* * *

 

Well, mostly without a hitch.

“Judy~,” Nick whines halfway through the trip, “I’m hungry!”

His tail droops while the fox looks at her with the most childish pout she’s ever seen. Had she not grown around hundreds of siblings who always tried to pull the “baby eyes” card to get their way, she  _may_ have felt guilty about it.

As it is, she scoffs and shoves his snout away. “Stop being a baby and munch on the granola bars I brought.”

“I already ate those.”

“Then I guess we’re eating when we get there.”

Nick whines again, but Judy ignores him in favor of reading one of the free magazines offered by the train service.

“I feel neglected.”

“I feel annoyed, but you don’t see me making a big deal about it.”

“Carrots, without proper nutrition I could  _die_.”

“You know what else you could die from? Me puncturing your throat with a knife.”

Nick doesn’t comment after that.

* * *

 

Finally,  _blessedly_ , they arrive at the Bunnyburrow station.

As Judy steps off the train, luggage in paw, she allows herself to breathe in the pleasant, fresh air that Zootopia so severely lacks. Too much time has passed since she last felt the clean, warm breeze ruffle her fur. The sky is filled with a gradient of colors that Judy hasn’t seen for quite a while. Not to say Judy regrets moving to the city, but her chest lightens when she visits her childhood home, as though the burdens of work and stress simply float away.

“Wow,” Nick mumbles in awe, taking in the scenery. “No wonder you love visiting your family.”

The comment warms her heart up. Something about her best friend approving of home is satisfying to know.

Few bystanders pay them any mind, though those that do have looks of disdain cross their face. Even without mind-reading abilities, Judy has a faint idea why her and Nick are receiving negative attention, and thus grabs his elbow to pull him forward and away from the dismayed stares.

“Jeez, fluff, what’s the rush?”

“Didn’t you say you were hungry?”

Nick’s tail and ears perk up. His expression holds more hope than a child waiting for Santa Paws to deliver gifts. “Food?”

Smirking, Judy continues maneuvering past mammals while Nick stumbles over his feet to keep up.

* * *

 

“Evil.”

Judy blinks, giving Nick an odd look. “Huh?”

“You,” he grumbles with a mouth full of blueberry pancakes, “are evil.”

She cocks her head to the side in curiosity. “How so?”

Pointing an accusatory claw at her and narrowing his eyes, Nick states, “This is all part of your plan, isn’t it? Manipulate me with food that came from the gates of Heaven to make me shut up and comply with your demands. Well, I have only one thing to say to you, you horrid crook.”

The fox pauses, afterwards sighing in bliss. “It’s working.”

She can’t help the cascade of giggles that escape her. Nick could pass as a kit with the mess of blueberry mush covering his muzzle. Judy knew he would love Billy’s Diner, but his over-exaggerated reaction is  _hysterical_. It only makes her more excited to share  _Gideon’s_ blueberry pie with him.

She prods Nick’s arm with a fork. Grin wide, she taunts, “Maybe if you behave, we’ll make a pit stop here before leaving for Zootopia.”

Eyes closed, Nick breathes out, “You know I love you, right?”

He says it so casually, but Judy detects a clinking sound from underneath the table. The fox is fiddling with his claws again, no doubt. It’s a nervous tic she only just recently started noticing.

Emerald eyes stare at her anxiously.  _Cripes how long have I been frozen in place he’s expecting an answer why I am freaking out now it’s not like he’s never told me that before ugh I am such a dumb—_

“Do I know that?” she jokes, saving herself. “Yes, yes I do.”

Glasses jangle in the background from the staff cleaning up dishes. Judy prays that the background noise hides the tension in her voice.

“So!” Nick exclaims, cool smile on his face. “When are the ‘rents picking us up? You have a place for me to stay, right?”

Grateful for the change in topic, Judy relaxes and assures, “Probably within the next 45 minutes. No worries, we have plenty of guestrooms. Mom already set up your own bed and bathroom.”

Nick casts his gaze downward and picks up a fork. Toying with the utensil in one paw, he asks, “Will I be near you?”

The question is innocent enough. Tone is neutral. But Judy doesn’t miss how his eyes pierce the utensil, and how his claws start clinking together again. Unbidden, memories of her stay at his apartment flood her mind. A heat blossoms in her chest at the thought of them sharing a space together again.

“Ah, no. The guestrooms are on a separate level than the personal bedrooms.” Only pure luck stops disappointment from leaking into her tone.

“Oh, I see.”

Maybe she’s projecting, but Judy swears Nick sounds  _dejected_  at her answer.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” Nick blurts out. His gaze holds such intensity, Judy finds herself frozen in place, and can’t help the slight twitch in her nose.

“Uh, sure.”

“Your family…they’re not…I mean, I don’t want to assume…I have no reason to fear anyone trying to pull anything with me, right?”

 _What_?

“I mean, I am a fox. And some mammals aren’t comfortable with that and—well—I guess I mean to say that I would feel more comfortable with you. Not that we need to share a bed or anything! Or even a room! Just, ah, knowing you’re a door away would help. A little. If that doesn’t freak you out. I swear I’m not—“

As he continues ranting, a strange understanding dawns on Judy. Nick is a fox, coming to live amongst hundreds of bunnies. Most likely he feels uncomfortable, being around so many strangers—especially strangers that have stereotyped and judged his species in the past.

Judy reaches across the table to cover his large, red paw with her tiny, grey one, effectively halting his rant. “Nick, it’s okay. I understand.”

While brushing her thumb across his backpaw, she reassures, “I’ll arrange it so that we’re close to one another. It’s not a weird request at all. I totally get it.”

Whether her parents will understand is the real issue here, but Judy decides not to mention that tidbit. Seeing the dopey look on his face and his tail wagging behind him—it would be sacrilegious of. her to dampen his spirit. She’ll figure it out. Hopefully.

* * *

 

Going into it, Judy really doesn’t know what to expect of Nick meeting her parents.

Sure, they know plenty about him, even shook his paw once—though that was at the graduation ceremony, and happened for about a minute before Judy got dragged off by reporters commenting on her speech. He’s dropped in on their video chats way too many times to count. Not to mention how much she discusses him in general. Every time they solve a case (which is a lot), every time they hang out (which is also a lot _)_ , Judy shares the moments with her parents to keep them updated.  Even now, Stu always cracks dad jokes with Nick over Furbook, and Bonnie always adds extra food in her care packages so that there’s some treats for Nick too.

Yet, anxiety claws at Judy’s stomach. Her paws shake a little, not enough to be noticeable, but enough to make the anxious feelings worse. This a big deal for her. Three of the most important mammals in her life are finally,  _officially_ , going to meet; if they don’t get along, Judy isn’t so sure if she can survive.

“Judy?” Nick questions, raising a tentative eyebrow. “Your ears are droopy.”

“Are they?” She tries lifting them, to no avail.

They are currently sitting on a bench outside Billy’s Diner, waiting for Bonnie and Stu to pick them up and drive them to the Burrow. Last Judy spoke with her mother, her parents were hopping into the truck and about to leave. The Burrow is only 10 minutes from the diner, so they shouldn’t be long.

She sighs. There’s no point in lying to Nick, he knows her too well. “I’m nervous.”

“What for?”                                        

“I don’t know.” Judy tries gesturing with her paws, unable to form proper words. “Maybe I’m just being a dumb, emotional bunny again.”

Fox eyes blink at her in concern. Nick peeks at their surroundings—it’s getting late, there’s hardly any mammals around—before seeming to come to a decision.

“Come over here,” he orders.

“Huh?” Judy glances over at the fox beside her, eyes wide.

Without a word, Nick scoots closer to her and wraps a warm, furry arm around Judy’s shoulders. Facing sideways, he plants the underside of his jaw atop her head. Then, just as Judy anticipates, he rumbles out a soothing purr that, like all the other ones before it, reduces the gut-wrenching feeling of anxiety. Judy’s paws stop shaking and her ears lift a little.

 _Thank God for this fox_.

To be honest, Nick hasn’t done it in a while. Probably out of embarrassment or something, considering the awkward moments that always ensue. Nevertheless, Judy relaxes and turns towards Nick to nuzzle his chest with her snout. Some of his cream fur sticks out from his black cotton button-down, and she allows herself to dig her nose into the patch of fur and inhale the foxy musk. She doesn’t particularly care if anyone notices or judges them. Or if Nick will pull away in a minute and pretend like nothing happened (again). Right now, Judy  _needs_ this.

Voice muffled, Judy asks, “You’re going to be on your best behavior, right? No conning my baby siblings?”

She feels more than hears his resounding chuckle that stops the purr. “Of course.”

“And please don’t tell my parents about how much trouble we get into on a daily basis.”

“Lips are sealed.”

He starts to pull away, but Judy digs her fingers into his shirt.  _Not this time._

“Nick…” she starts, hesitant of her request, “Do you…uh…can you do that again? Until they get here? It calms my nerves.”

She doesn’t elaborate any further than that, and she doesn’t need to. Immediately, Nick’s body starts vibrating again and the arm wrapped around her shoulder pulls her closer. Judging by his reaction, he enjoys this as much as she does, despite any embarrassment. Judy is so calm, she almost doesn’t notice the bushy tail that curls around her waist, or the claws that trace gentle shapes in her fur.

Judy’s ears  _burn_ in response and heat spreads throughout her body like an uncontrollable fire. Of all the stunts he’s pulled with her, this one crosses platonic friendship into a new territory, one they have not reached before nor discussed.

Judy only pulls away when she hears her family’s rusty engine coming from down the block. She attempts to slow down her heavy breathing, and notices out of the corner of her eye that Nick struggles to compose himself as well. His pupils are blown wide, eyes like dark, black pools.

By the time her parents pull up, both rabbit and fox are back to normal.

Outwardly, anyway.

* * *

 

“Jude the dude!”

Stu is the first to jump out of the truck and engulf Judy in a hug. She releases a laugh at his energy; as much as she makes fun of him for it, she misses having someone show so much open care and affection. Most mammals in Zootopia tend to reserve themselves and hold back on their emotions like that, especially in public.

Wrapping her arms back around him, she squeezes her father in a tight embrace before Bonnie interjects.

“Stu!” Bonnie admonishes, though a grin tugs at the corner of her muzzle, “She’s not just  _your_ daughter!”

Her father moves aside so that Bonnie can hug her too—though in a more ginger, soft embrace. Bonnie Hopps tends to show her love through subtle, gentle actions compared to Stu’s ostentatious outbursts of affection. Their personalities complement one another well, and make them the best parents ever.

Judy’s mother smooths down her ears. “Oh, sweetie, we’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too, you guys.” Colors and shapes blur, and it takes all of Judy’s willpower not to cry. “Me too.”

Caught up in the moment, she just now realizes Nick is standing to the side, awkwardly fidgeting his thumbs and trying to avoid making direct eye contact. In his eyes, the walls are back up—the barriers that Judy wishes she could break down by sheer will. Although the fox’s expression reveals no emotion, Judy knows he’s creating a self-depreciating tirade in his head. His eyes dart to the travel brochure in his paw, probably plotting some kind of escape strategy if things go awry.

Lavender eyes narrow in determination.   _I refuse to let that happen. It’s time._

“Mom, Dad,” she states in a very soft voice. Judy hesitates before walking over to Nick and holding his paw. She can’t say much in front of her parents, so she tries to comfort him with a quick squeeze. “This is Nick.”

Nick makes a strangled noise, but Judy doesn’t bring attention to it. She leads him over, paw-in-paw to her parents, where she finally lets go. Her eyes dart between her parents and Nick, the anxiety from before taking over.

For a brief moment, a very  _very_ brief moment, her parents stare at Nick. Nick stares at the ground.

The awkward atmosphere dissipates at once when Stu jumps onto Nick and embraces him as he did Judy. His hug is so sudden, so enthusiastic, Nick almost topples over from the sheer force of it.  

“ _NICKY!_ It’s great to see you again, for more than 30 seconds this time!” As soon as Stu lets go, he claps the now-gaping fox on the back and lets loose a pot-bellied laugh. “It’s about time you ventured out to the country.”

Judy’s ears perk up higher than ever before, her body so light it could drift away. She glances aside to gauge her mother’s reaction.

Bonnie gives Nick the same endearing look she had given Judy a moment ago. As Stu steps away from the fox, Bonnie steps forward, pausing only a moment before opening her arms wide and slowly encasing Nick in a hug of her own. Nick tenses at the contact at first, but then gradually relaxes and returns the hug, even sporting a slight smile on his muzzle.

In a heartfelt whisper, Bonnie tells Nick, “Thank you so much for taking care of our daughter.”

Part of Judy inwardly grumbles at her mom acting as though she can’t take care of herself.

The other part of Judy relishes the slight wag to Nick’s tail and the broad smile on his face. Her parents like Nick.  _Her parents like Nick and Nick likes them back_.

“Really, you’re the best friend she’s ever had,” Stu adds, wrapping an arm around Judy. “And anyone who means that much to Judy means that much to us as well. Fox or no fox.”

For once, the roles reverse and Judy struggles to hide the waterworks while her father stands completely unfazed.  A sense of completion fills Judy, allows her to finally breathe out the crippling fear of her family not accepting her best friend and partner.

 _It’s going to be okay_ , she marvels, her parents walking on each side of Nick with their arms looped together. They head towards the car, laughing all the while at silly jokes and exchanging stories about their respective hometowns.  _This actually, truly, will be okay_.

* * *

 

Nick receives a mixed reaction from her siblings after entering the Burrow. Some are fascinated by him, having never seen a fox so up close and personal. Others are neutral or disinterested, most of them older and probably experienced from working with Gideon in the past. A select few gaze at Nick with fear, though Bonnie chides them when they’re far enough that Nick can’t hear it.

 _Hateful_ looks, at least, are absent. Given the situation, that’s the best Judy could hope for.

Her reception holds far more excitement. Most of her siblings tackled her down all at once the second she walked through the door. Some of the others waited in line for their own turn to give her a personal greeting. She’s sure that as she walks around and gets situated, more siblings will eventually find her and welcome her back as well.

Stu brings their bags up to the rooms, while Bonnie leads them to the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, Judy notes how intrigued Nick is by the Burrow.

“It’s like the Great Hall from Hogwarts,” he whispers to her, the comment earning him an eye roll.

When they arrive at the table, Bonnie sets up placemats and silverware for three. “You two up for some tea and biscuits? I know you just ate a full meal at Billy’s.”

Nick pats his stomach, “This belly is a black hole. Anything you put in front of me  _will_  be consumed.”

Her mother chuckles, ordering some bunnies to bring out the biscuits while she hands Judy and Nick two mugs.

“Please, sit. I’m sure you’ve both had a long trip.”

“You can say that again,” Judy mutters, taking a seat alongside Nick at one of the elongated, wooden tables. Bonnie quirks an eyebrow at the response, though Nick sports a subtle smirk.

“Nick, dear, I have a question for you, while you’re here.”

Nick tilts his head at Judy in askance, to which she offers a clueless shrug.

“Uh, sure Ms. Hopps. Ask away.”

“Oh, call me Bonnie, hun.” She pauses. Then, “Has Judy been seeing anyone in Zootopia?”

Nick hacks violently, while Judy gaps and screams, “Mother!”

 _This is not happening this is not happening, my mom is_ not  _asking my romantic interest about my nonexistent love life._

Bonnie glances at both of them in confusion. “What? It’s a legitimate question. If anyone knows about any bucks you’re meeting, sweetheart, it’s him.”

“Who’s to say I’m seeing anybody?!”

Her mother scoffs. “You reject every single one of your paw-selected suitors, clearly someone else must be procuring your interest.”

She can’t stop the intense blush of her ears, nor the cotton dryness that’s wedged in her throat. While Judy has her own reasons for rejecting the bucks, her mother  _is_ right about one thing.

Nick breaks the silence and stumbles out, “Er, no, Ms. H— _Bonnie_ —not that I’m aware of. Work does, ah, keep us quite busy.”

Bonnie glares back and forth between the two of them. “But you two still find time to spend together with one another, don’t you?”

Nick coughs again, this time a blush blooming in his ears. Judy at least takes solace in the fact that he’s just as mortified about this whole topic as she is.

The glare being sent their way melts into an inquisitive stare. Bonnie blinks away the anger, now looking at them as though she just solved a mystery. “Huh,” she mumbles.

Judy visualizes the gears and cogs turning in her mother’s brain. She needs to shut her up,  _fast_.

Stu’s voice cuts between the thick air. “Hey, Nick, your bedroom’s ready!”

The fox jumps at the opportunity. “I should probably go.” Not even a second passes and he’s out of his chair and bounding towards Stu. Leaving Judy and her mother. Alone.

 _Traitor_.

Judy’s mother sips at her tea, cold eyes narrowed at her over the rim. “Is there something you need to tell me, dear?”

“There’s nothing going on between Nick and I, if that’s what you’re asking,” Judy states, tone just as cold. “And I have  _multitudinous_ reasons for rejecting the bucks you set me up with. Important, solid reasons that have nothing to do with Nick or any other mammal but myself.”

“It may be true that you two aren’t dating…but you  _are_  interested, aren’t you?” Her mother raises an eyebrow, deliberately ignoring the second half of Judy’s statement.

Judy hold backs for a moment and debates not saying anything. In the end, she might as well put it all out there. Shoulder sagging in defeat, Judy sighs and nods her head, slumping in her seat.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m interested,” she mumbles, “but I can assure you nothing will ever become of it.”

Judy refuses to look her mother in the face. Disappointment will be there, for certain, alongside with disgust and hatred probably. Of course, not only does “Jude the dude” have to suck at being a normal rabbit and go out to become a cop, but she has to fall in love with a mammal outside her species as well—a predator. When it comes down to it, she has no right to blame her mother for the way she feels. If it was her daughter, she would probably freak out too.  _Sweet tea_ , will she even be allowed back into the Burrow? Is this where everything goes totally wrong and her and Nick pack up and go to Zootopia never to see her family again—

A warm paw holds her chin and forces Judy to face her mother. Breath catches in her throat, for on her mother’s is not condensation or hatred but—

“Judy, you know I love you no matter what, right?” she murmurs as she strokes her daughter’s cheek from across the table. “I don’t fully understand the attraction and, I admit, it’s a little…odd…to me…” She smiles as she trails off. “But, really, I’m not surprised. You always did like defying norms. It all makes sense, now.”

Buck teeth gnaw on her lip. She wants to cry—she needs to cry  _so bad_  after this crazy, anxiety-filled day. Judy refrains, though, and tries to come to terms with the fact that her mother for some reason hasn’t shunned her from the family and kicked her or Nick out yet.

“Your father may not be so understanding, unfortunately,” Bonnie continues, oblivious to Judy’s inner emotional breakdown. “These kinds of things take time for him to accept. He grew up in a very conservative family, you know. It’s to be expected.”

There is nothing for Judy to do but sit there, numb, processing her mother’s words.

“If anything, I apologize for always pushing you,” Bonnie murmurs. “If I had known sooner, I wouldn’t have tried to set you up so many times. Can you forgive me?”

Finally, the emotional walls crumble and Judy sprints around the table to fling herself at her mother, clutching her tight. Tears don’t leak out, which is a surprise, but Judy’s breath comes out in uneven gasps.

One of her mother’s paws pats Judy’s back while the other rubs comforting circles.

Only when Judy gains some semblance of self-control does she grumble, “I didn’t even  _want_ to fall for the dumb fox.”

Her mother laughs, body shaking with mirth. “Oh, sweetie, no one  _ever_ has control over that sort of thing.”

They pull apart, and Judy gains enough mental stability to stand still and control her breathing

“I didn’t think you would be so accepting of this,” Judy admits, fiddling with one of her ears. “Of my feelings, of Nick being here, of  _everything_.”

Bonnie tuts. “Sweetie, you don’t even know  _half_ of the things your siblings have sprung on me…”

Judy finds it hard to believe that someone could rival her having a crush on a fox and leaving the Burrow to become the first bunny cop, but she respectfully doesn’t challenge the statement.

“Speaking of acceptance…” Judy trails off, a nervous smile breaking through, “…would you believe me if I told you that Nick needs to sleep somewhere close to my bedroom for nonsexual, health-based purposes?”

* * *

 

“Remind me again,” Stu says to his wife later that evening, after they put the younger buns to bed, “why is the fox moving his setup right next to Judy’s bedroom?”

Bonnie nibbles on her lip. “Do you trust me?”

Stu nods, eyes wide.

His wife releases a haggard breath. “Then please,  _please_ , don’t ask me to answer that question.”

* * *

 

Few minutes after midnight, someone knocks on Judy’s bedroom door with discreet taps. Advanced hearing is the only reason Judy hears the noise and wakes up from a deep slumber. She stretches her arms over her head, cracking her bones and wondering who her visitor is.

She trots over to the door. Turning the door handle, she pokes her head out the small crack, curious eyes blinking at the mammal standing in front of her door.

“Nick?” she whispers, eyes squinting at him. “What are you doing?”

 _Clink. Clink. Clink._ “Hey, Carrots, you got any leftover food? The midnight munchies are hitting me hard.”

Judy suspects that’s not the only reason he’s standing there. He  _is_ nocturnal, after all, and doesn’t really sleep that well during the night. Not to mention he’s been quite needy as of late, though the reason for that, Judy cannot fathom.

Releasing a yawn, Judy nods. “Sure. I’ll bring you to the kitchen.”

Their trek to and from the kitchen doesn’t take long. Nick grabs a canister of blueberries to satisfy his random craving, munching on the fruits while Judy leads him back to the dorming quarters.

“Well, good night, Nick,” Judy whispers, voice soft enough that it won’t travel to other bunny ears.

Another yawn escapes as she drags her feet back to her room. She's not even a foot away from her bedroom door when a panicked whisper reverberates in the hallway. “Wait, Carrots!”

Judy groans, turning around to face Nick. “What?”

Nick purses his lips. Opens and closes them a few times. He hesitates, before mumbling, “Is it okay if I stay with you tonight?”

…

…

….

At the lack of response, Nick begs, “I can sleep on the floor, if you want.”

To be honest, it’s not Nick that Judy doubts.

It’s herself.                                                           

(not to mention if her parents catch her her mother will never trust her again and her father will have a stroke and possibly die)

“Um, uh…”

The despondency and self-depreciation in Nick’s expression convinces her. “All right. But no funny business!”

His whole body perks up, and Judy curses how weak she is when it comes to saying ‘no’ to him.

As they both enter the room, Judy realizes belatedly that Nick has never seen her personal bedroom before. The way he gapes at it is eerily similar to how Judy admired the districts in Zootopia her first time taking a train there. His awe boggles her mind. It’s just an old bedroom, with embarrassing Backstreet Bucks and Mice Girls posters plastered everywhere, ZPA souvenirs, and about ten times the amount of stuffed animals at her apartment. Plus the entire theme is  _pink_  of all things—pink and sparkles and glitter because, at the time, that was the only girly aspect of herself that Judy willingly embraced.

 Blushing, she mutters, “No making fun.”

“This is…your…den…right?” Nick inquires, eyes examining every inch of the room.

Judy closes the door and turns on the lamp by her bed. “If by ‘den’ you mean my childhood bedroom since I was like four, then, yeah.”

What he does next puzzles her. He collapses in a blissful heap on the ground, spreading his limbs out on the pink carpet and humming in satisfaction.

Well that’s…unusual.

“Earth to dumb fox. Did those blueberries turn your brain into mush?”

No response from him, just his head rubbing against the carpet. Really, it’s not all that comfortable. She doesn’t get what the big deal is.

“Hey, goofball, you done molesting my floor?”

“Hmm?”

She isn’t trained to deal with this. “At least let me get you blankets or something.”

Heading towards her closet, Judy picks out some spare blankets and pillows for him. When she turns around, Nick’s eyes are dark (not in a scary way—but in an odd, intense, instinctual way) and his expression causes her to remain in place.

“Where are you sleeping?” he asks, voice spacey.

The way he stares at her causes a tingle to flow through Judy’s belly. Her nose twitches in tandem with her flickering tail. Dare she admit it, this behavior change is kind of… _appealing_. To her. And her lady parts.

(she refuses to admit anything to herself that involves the words  _sexy_ ,  _arousing_ , or  _turned on_ )

“On…my…bed?” she squeaks.

“You say that like it’s a question.”

“Nick, you’re acting very…strange.”

He blinks at her. “Am I?”

Her tongue licks her dry lips. Nick’s eyes appear to follow the appendage.

“It’s almost weirding me out.”

“Almost?” He cocks his head.             

“I mean, living with 275 other bunny siblings desensitize you to a lot.”

Something in that phrase causes him to snap out of his unusual trance.

“Siblings!” he barks, frantic, scrambling up to a standing position. “Siblings, parents—your family. They live here!”

“Sh!” she scolds, holding a paw to his muzzle. “Do you want to wake the entire burrow? What’s gotten into you?”

He pants, eyes staring off into nothingness. “Sorry, Judes, I didn’t…I don’t…” He groans. “I get…weird…at night.”

Judy eyes him up and down. “Evidently.”

They remain standing like that, locking gazes with one another, until Judy looks away and sighs.

“Hey, it’s late, we should go to sleep,” she suggests, throwing the blankets and pillows on the ground. “Make yourself cozy. And try to hold back your…uh… _weirdness_.”

His smile to her is sheepish, but reassuring. “Okay. Will do.”

As he rolls out the blanket and organizes the pillows, Judy hops onto the bed and snuggles under the comforter, afterward turning off the lamp on her nightstand. Exhaustion creeps up on her out of nowhere, and her eyes droop the moment her head rests backs against the pillow.

Still…she can’t fall asleep. As comfy as she is, the knowledge that a certain fox is laying a mere few inches away from her, on the bedroom floor, is…well, she doesn’t know what it is. But it makes her want to offer her bed instead. Get some snuggles in.

_No! Stop it! That’s crossing the platonic line. Again._

Granted, Nick doesn’t seem opposed to crossing that said boundary. Maybe he feels really comfortable with her? If he were another bunny, Judy would have no doubt of his interest and intentions.

 _I’ve seen his reactions, though, when we go_ too  _far. It freaks him out. Even if he does enjoy more-than-platonic actions, I don’t think he’s ready to admit that to himself yet. It wouldn’t be fair of me to push him, like how my mom used to push me. Unless I’m deluding myself about this entire situation._

“Penny for your thoughts, Carrots?”

Judy chokes on air. “Huh?”

“You’re not asleep yet. And I can, you know, see in the dark. Meaning I can see your facial expression very clearly. Which looks kind of constipated.”

Swiveling her head sideways, she notes the fox that is sitting upright, thus is level with her face. It’s too dark in the room for her to view details, but there’s a reflection from the moonlight shining in his eyes that allow her to figure out where he’s looking.

“Dumb fox,” she mutters, too tired for a real comeback. She doesn’t turn back over, though. They both share a look with one another, and for once, Judy thinks they’re on the same page.

Tone casual, she mentions, “It gets cold at night. It’s hard to sleep.” A pause. “Maybe…maybe we can keep each other warm. Just for the night.”

Within seconds, Nick has leapt onto the other side of her bed and under the covers, scooting over to her body and squishing it against his. Her face flames up while he presses his nose against the back of neck and breathes into her fur.

 _What are we doing?_ she’s desperate to ask.  _Where are we going with this?_

“You’re awfully snuggly, as of late,” Judy comments instead.

Nick growls in response.

“And apparently temperamental.”

His growl tapers off into a slight whimper.

“Are you okay?”

“Weren’t you just tired?”

Goody—he’s utilizing actual words now!

“I’m just saying. I feel like you’ve been acting strange.”

The proximity of their bodies allows Judy to feel him tense behind her.

“It’s a fox thing. Don’t worry about it.”

“You always say that—”

“And it’s always true. Drop it.”

“For someone who’s sleeping in  _my_ bed, you’re really demanding.”

“Judy.” He sounds hoarse. “Please. Go to bed.”

Surrendering (for now) she stops talking. The barriers are back, stronger than ever, and there’s nothing else she can say tonight to knock them down. Tomorrow, she resolves to order some blueberry pies in the morning, before Nick wakes up. With incentive, perhaps she can persuade him to confess… _something_.  _Anything_  at this point is better than him retreating into himself and falling back into conman-mode.

Puffs of air tickle her ears, helping to calm her heartrate and breathing. No purring tonight, but the feeling of his arms cuddling her is…comforting. And the steady movement of his chest is…pleasant. The extra warmth—that’s not too bad either, all things considered. Hmm…

She drifts off to sleep, Nick not far behind her.

* * *

 

Walking into Gideon’s bakery feels more magical than  _Willy Panda and the Chocolate Factory_. Different, wondrous scents tantalize Judy’s nose—causing her previously-silent stomach to growl in displeasure. Gid spruced the place up since she last visited. Paint is neater and fresher, furniture is new, and there’s even some streamers and wall art that hadn’t been hung up last time.

“Good morning, Miss Judy!”

Judy beams as the baker himself waltzes out from the back of the store. Cowlick parted in a neat fashion and blue overalls accompanying a plaid shirt, Gideon gives off a very polished, formal impression. For a country bumpkin, anyway.

To this day, Judy marvels at how much has changed since high school. Nasty sneers replaced by soft smiles. Sharp, jagged claws replaced with smooth, trimmed ends. Before, when she looked at him, she couldn’t resist the impulse to trace the faint scars on her cheek. Now, she hardly recalls them existing in the first place—the memory so long and out of place with the present that she no longer dwells on the event like she used to.

The burly fox has large containers in each hand, no doubt the extra-large blueberry pies she ordered early this morning, after sneaking out of bed and locking her bedroom door. If Nick thinks the blueberry pancakes at Billy’s Diner are heaven-sent, then Gideon’s blueberry pie will be absolutely euphoric for him.

“How are you, Gid? Business doin’ well?”

“Sure is,” he drawls in his Southern twang, putting the containers down. “I gotta hand it to your parents, they sure know how to advertise.”

Walking over to her, he leans down for a hug, which Judy returns with fervor.

“It’s good to see you again!” she exclaims, a wide grin on her face.

As she pulls away, though, Gideon’s eyes are wide and his nose trembles. Judy recognizes the action—Nick’s nose trembles the same way when he sniffs someone, or picks up on a scent Judy can’t smell.

Sheepish, Judy hazards a guess, “I smell like the city, don’t I?”

Gideon stares at her far longer than she’s comfortable with. Clearing his throat, he rubs the back of his neck with his paw. “Er, well, not exactly. It’s just…uh…I didn’t realize you were taken. I’m sure the tod won’t appreciate smelling me all over you after he scent-marked ya. This time of the year, probably best if we hold back on the hugs.”

Judy freezes, body numb and stuck in place. Her heart beats against her chest to a violent, aggressive tempo.  _Taken. Tod. Scent-marked. Time of year_. All the odd, small tells that have been bothering her for the past month conglomerate into a giant snowball that barrels through her brain.

‘Gideon.” Her voice is soft, but her eyes are hard. “Did you just say scent-marking?”

Wolford had said something similar to her before. Out of respect for Nick, and because she felt embarrassed in the first place, Judy hadn’t dug into it.

Gideon blinks at her, eyes wide. “Wait. You…you  _do_ know what scent-marking is, dontcha?”

She follows up with her own questions, “Why did you assume I was taken? By another fox?”

Gideon’s jaw hangs open for moment. “B-but how could you not—that’s just—he didn’t explain it to you?”

Before, Nick’s behavior had been chalked up to Nick being…well, Nick. Fox culture and customs were another consideration for his odd behavior; something that Judy couldn’t really empathize with. She had never deliberated if the behavior had meant more than that, if (maybe) she wasn’t overthinking the situation. Maybe her judgement wasn’t as clouded as she originally assumed.

“Gideon!” Judy barks, standing erect with anxious energy. He shrinks away from her outburst. “You’re a fox.”

After she says it, Judy feels like an idiot. Amending her statement, she adds, “I mean, uh, as a fox, I’m assuming you understand fox culture and…stuff.”

Gideon trembles, eyes unsure. “Well, uh, I guess so. I don’t really follow where yer goin’ with this.”

“You just said something about scent-marking,” Judy starts, pointing a finger at him, “which is something someone else told me about a while ago, but I never followed up on out of respect for a friend.

“You also said something about me being taken, which, I can tell you now is 100% false.

( _unfortunately)_

“And ‘time of year’? What does  _that_  mean?”

Gideon waves his arms around, eyes squinted in frustration. “Okay, wait just a moment. You mean to tell me…that you are not aware of the scent clinging to yer fur right now?”

Judy’s eyes darken. “ _What. Scent_?”

Ignoring her question, Gideon continues, “So I take it you don’t know much about what time of the year it is for foxes now do ya?”

Grimacing, Judy shakes her head.

The fox groans, dragging a paw through his face fur. “Oh sweet, merciful Jesus I never thought I would have to explain this to a bunny.”

“Explain  _what_ , exactly?”

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—_

“Listen, Judy, mating season isn’t exactly a casual subject—“

Before he can even finish the statement, Judy shoves the fox backwards onto a bar stool, hopping up on the one next to it, putting both mammals at level height. Her body surges forward into his space, a fist gripping the front of his shirt in a tight, unbreakable hold. Using the darkest, “bad cop” voice she can muster, Judy commands, “I have a lot of questions— _a lot_  of questions—and you, Gideon Grey, are going to answer every. Single. One of them.”


	9. Scent-ing Signals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very fond thank-you to DrummerMax64 who not only thought of the witty pun name for this chapter but also fixed my mistakes and provided helpful insights for the direction of this story. You da bomb dot com.

Well, as awkward as the conversation is, it’s certainly… _ enlightening _ .

“So when foxes scent-mark their prospective mate, it’s a possessive sign to ward off others.”

“I—well, er—yeah, actually.”

Granted that Gideon’s embarrassed stuttering slows down her questioning, he provides accurate, helpful answers to all Judy’s inquiries. Thus far, Judy knows that foxes enter a sort of… _ heat _ …in the fall because of their “mating season” in winter. She knows that this heat of theirs makes them super possessive, horny, and instinctual. Sometimes excessively so—to the point where it can’t be helped. Their tails will curl around their potential mate. Fur-on-fur contact is crucial; they won’t be able to sleep in peace otherwise. They will be very protective and worry over every minor concern. Any animal that tries to even  _ touch  _ a fox’s winter buddy will be on the receiving end of a nasty death glare and aggressive behavior.

“And…I’ve been scent-marked.”

“You…uh…yeah,” Gideon winces, sheepish. “Only those with strong noses can pick up on it though, so that’s probably why ya haven’t noticed.”

Oh, she is going to  _ obliterate  _ that fox.

Contrary to her thoughts, Judy maintains a calm, accepting demeanor.

“Okay. You’ve answered most of my questions, which I’m grateful for, by the way.”

“You, uh,” he chuckles, with a hint of anxiety, “you didn’t give m-me much of a choice in the matter.”

Judy admits there’s a tug of guilt in her gut somewhere deep down. Really, she’s not the type to threaten animals. Okay, yeah, there was that one time she lashed out against a mafia boss. And blackmailed Nick. And hustled the jumbo pop shop owner. And almost convinced Mr. Big to ice Weaselton. But, really, all minor situations. Not a big deal.

Plus, she needed—crackers, she  _ deserved _ —an explanation. Especially considering she’s been freaking out this whole time about crossing her boundaries when, in actuality, Nick practically  _ claimed her without her even knowing it. _

That being said, Judy is still confused about one major flaw in this whole “mating season” behavior.

“Something still doesn’t add up. Every time I show affection, Nick doesn’t react well. If Nick wants me as his…um…winter buddy, why not tell me? I mean, he has to know I feel the same way! Why hasn’t he initiated anything?”

Annoyance reemerges, causing her foot to start thumping the ground. Arms crossed, she glares outside the bakery window, imagining various ways she could go about beating the seeds out of Nick. In heat or not in heat, it’s not as though Judy is exactly subtle about her intentions.

Rather than answer, Gideon has a question of his own. “Why would he?”

Judy glances over, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, why else? If Nick-” her heart skips a beat, “-likes me, then he should tell me, instead of spazzing out and pretending like there’s nothing there.”

Her response seems to puzzle him more. “He’s not in a position to. Tods aren’t supposed to make moves on vixens. The  _ vixens  _ needs to  _ give permission _ first.”

Judy and Gideon exchange equally confused stares.

She asks, “Why would I need to give him permission to do anything? If he wants to initiate a more-than-friends relationship with me, then that’s on him…right?”

To her dismay, Gideon groans and bangs his forehead onto the table.

“Gid?”

“Sorry, Ms. Judy, it’s just—how are you so buddy-buddy with a fox and yet you don’t know anything about our culture?”

Her ears perk up at the last word. “Culture?”

Gideon sighs, perking up out of his slump.

“I’m only gonna explain this here once, so pay attention. When it comes to mating season, there are a couple of cultural rules in play to make sure no one forces the other into mateship without consent. Tods are responsible for the, uh, ‘flirtations’ for a lack of a better word. They need to show their affections and grab the attention of the vixens they want as a mate.

“ _ However _ , it is 100 percent up to the vixens whether they accept the tod’s advances or not. The vixen is responsible for accepting or rejecting the tod, and formally establishing the mateship. My mama always explained it as kind of how advertising works. Tods advertise their…er… _ product _ , but they cannot force or tell vixens whether they should make the purchase or not. The vixens have total control over how the proposed mateship proceeds.

“In a sense,” Gideon continues, “it’s the opposite of typical gender roles you see in other species. Usually males take charge more, but for foxes, the vixens dictate and initiate any type of relationship. That’s probably why yer foxy friend hasn’t said anything. He already put himself out there for you; if you guys are ever gonna be more than friends,  _ you  _ need to initiate it and declare your intentions.”

_ Hoo boy _ , Judy slides back into her chair, eyes wide as she attempts to process over Gideon’s spiel.  _ It makes so much sense _ !

Despite her reeling, the bunny feels…content…in a way. This whole emotional bandwagon has driven her over the hedge numerous times in the past month or two. So many what-ifs, so many insecurities, so many  _ is this okay did I do something wrong does Nick hate me should I apologize I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING— _

“Judy, you okay?” Gideon’s voice pulls her out of the shock.

“Yeah,” she assures him, ears flopping back, “I just…wow…that’s a lot to absorb.”

The burly fox sighs. “I remember feeling the same way when my mama ‘splained it to me. If you think it’s weird knowing about it, imagine  _ experiencing _ it.”

A weird tingle prickles through her fur for a moment. She doesn’t want to imagine not being in control of her emotions or hormones. Bunnies are generally horny all year-round, but not at the excessive level that seems to hit foxes all at once.

She concedes, “It must be rough. I guess I understand why Nick has been acting like a hot mess.”

Gideon offers a small smile. “It ain’t easy, trust me on that. One of my friends who’s a vixen ordered pies recently, and it took all my willpower not to lose control when I delivered them personally.”

“Don’t vixens go through the same thing?”

“Eh, sort of. It’s not as intense for them as it is for males. They’re more lucid. Usually to help keep us in check. The only time they ever reach the same level as tods…well…”

Gideon trails off, cheeks growing red under his creamy fur.

“Uh…you know what, let’s not go there.”

Having a faint idea of where that statement was headed, Judy nods in agreement. “Fair enough. I have one more question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“I get the whole ‘fox-in-heat’ and cultural thing. I get why Nick can’t, uh,  _ make a move _ , I guess.”

She pauses, then proceeds to ramble while making wild gestures with her paws. “But he still scent-marked me. And didn’t tell me anything about fox culture and was upset with me when I tried finding answers. How was I supposed to know about all this?”

Pursing his muzzle, Gideon shrugs his shoulders. “That has nothin’ to do with fox culture, Ms. Judy.”

Translation:  _ Nick is an idiot who has the emotional consistency of a rock. Dumb fox. _

Judy nods, somehow still not freaking out all things considered.

“So,” she starts, heaving an exhausted sigh, “how does a rabbit go about reciprocating a fox’s feelings?”

For the first time in a long,  _ long  _ time, Gideon smirks wickedly. The sight brings Judy back to the play, when Gideon had sneered at her from his seat in the audience. Back then, he had flaunted his teeth to mock her, afterwards using his fangs and teeth to intimidate and frighten her at the festival.

This smile is the same, but the intent wildly different.

“Why, Ms. Judy,  _ how  _ females show their interest is open to all forms of creativity.”

As he says this, he leans in close enough for her to catch a wink.

“And if my partner was running me in crop circles and driving me madder than a truck driver, you can bet your toot I wouldn’t make it easy for them.”

* * *

 

Judy returns to the Burrow by 9 AM, three hours later than when she left, and with so much more insight and knowledge on the subject of foxes than she had prior.

And apparently much closer to Gideon than ever. Not that she hadn’t become friendlier with him over time whenever she visited home, but reaching the level where she could comfortably conspire and vent out her devious thoughts…well…that was new. Not to mention completely unexpected. Some of the mischievous things Gideon disclosed, Judy wondered if Gideon had  _ really _ changed all that much.

Regardless, no complaints from her. In fact, Judy thinks she enjoys this impish side of Gideon more than his country bumpkin personality.

“Nick should be awake by now,” she mutters to herself. Bunny ears droop at the thought of him waking up alone, only to perk afterward at the thought that the pie will more than compensate. While she no longer intends to drag a confession out of him (because now she has a real plan that she  _ knows _ will mess with Nick in the best way possible), Judy  _ had  _ ordered blueberry pie for them, and it would be a waste not to eat it.

Upon her arrival, she raps against the door. She calls out, “Nick, you in there?”

A predatory growl answers her. Not deterred in the slightest, Judy barges right in to the sight of a fox-shaped lump hiding under the sheets.

“You’re still sleeping?” she scoffs. “It’s already past nine!”

Under the sheets, Nick’s voice is muffled. “Nocturnal.”

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘nocturnal’ sugar when you still wake up in time for work every day.”

Groaning, the fox pulls the covers back. The action reveals a grumpy frown, squinted eyes, and Nick lying down on his stomach.

Already, Judy recognizes an opportunity.

_ “Something that fox mates do _ ,” Gideon had informed her, “ _ is scratch the base of their partner’s tail. It is a super-duper sensitive spot and a  _ very  _ intimate gesture _ ,  _ especially since we can’t reach that spot ourselves _ .”

Judy switches out her annoyed scowl for a gentle grin.

“Nick,” she coos as she approaches him, swaying her hips a little, “you need to wake up, sleepy fox.”

His overtired state must blind him to her little act, because Nick hardly spares her a glance and shoves his face into the pillow. The grin on Judy’s muzzle twitches for a moment, threatening to become a smirk.  _ Perfect _ .

The bunny halts right at the side of the bed, where Nick lays grumbling into the pillow. Eyeing the bushy appendage extending from his sweatpants, she reaches out her paw.

“Carrots, we really need to work on your weekend sleeping hab—”

Nick doesn’t finish the sentence.

“ _ Ayyy errrr hnngghhhrrr— _ ”

There’s no way to describe the noises Nick makes. As soon as Judy starts raking her blunt claws through the base of his tail, the fox tenses and flings his head above the pillow. Though he’s facing away from her, Judy bets that his eyes are dark and predatory again.

_ “There’s no formal name for the change in our eyes. I just call it The  _ **_Look_ ** _. If y’ever see The  _ **_Look_ ** _ on a fox, you can bet your britches that they’re holding back from doing some naughty, improper things, Ms. Judy. It happens closer to the winter, and it’s a sign that the season’s gettin’ to us.” _

None of his body language stops her. “Ah, now I have your attention!” Her voice is bright and cheery, and a stark contrast against the dark, weird aura Nick radiates.

Jaw clenched and seething through his nose, Nick turns his head to pierce her with the most animalistic stare she’s ever witnessed. For a brief moment, Judy’s nose twitches. His expression eerily resembles that of a mammal affected by Night Howlers.

_ But he’s not under the influence of Night Howlers. It’s a fox-mating-season reaction. _

Just as soon as the twitch starts, Judy ends it. She also pulls away from him, trying to “play dumb” about her actions.

“So!” She claps her paws together. “There’s some blueberry pie downstairs. Ready for breakfast?”

Watching him struggle to breath at a normal rate makes it difficult not to giggle.

“Right,” he pants, voice husky and causing Judy’s fur to bristle and her tail to flicker in appreciation, “breakfast, got it. I…I will me-meet you down there.”

“Okay!” She lets loose a wide grin. “You know the way. Catch ya down there!”

She skips out of the room, ears perked and vibrating with energy. It takes an enormous amount of willpower to not peek back and watch his expression.

**_I_ ** _ did that _ , she marvels to herself, unable to stop the smile.  _ He’s acting that way because of  _ **_me_ ** _. _

Warmth spreads from her ears down to her toes.

* * *

 

When Nick joins her for breakfast about 30 minutes later, he appears more composed, if a tad quiet. Claws clink against each other at a rapid pace while Nick shuffles into the room. He must be nervous, probably trying to collect himself after losing his cool from before. 

Bunny ears droop at the sight. If Judy’s being honest with herself, messing with him when he’s in an emotionally fragile state is kind of a dirty move.

Then again, Dumb Fox started this whole predicament. Purring and touching and cuddling and licking and sniffing and  _ driving me up a freakin’ wall and making me question my fluffing insanity for over a month all because of his crop-rotting emotional constipation. _

Her ears perk up again, eyes narrowing in determination.  _ No. He deserves every second of this _ . 

Besides, the end justifies the means, right?

The rabbit bounces over to the counter and grabs Nick’s plate of food: scrambled soy eggs just the way he likes them, with bug bacon and hash browns (because Bonnie is proud of her cooking ability and will touch bug meat if it means accommodating her guest’s diet). She adds a fox-sized slice of pie at the edge of the plate.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she exclaims with a large amount of gusto, setting down some pre-cut pie in front of the fox. Her overenthusiasm garners a wary glance from him.

“You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he mutters, starting to prod at his food.

Unable to respond, Judy settles on shrugging her shoulders. “Just excited to see you try Gideon’s pie.”

Nick nods and accepts the response.

Judy notes his lack of suspicion and how she’s out of his line of sight. Hm. Unsuspecting. Oblivious. Hasn’t had coffee yet. Now would be a good time to…

 

A sugary-sweet smile crawls across Judy’s face. Tentative, she toes closer towards Nick’s seat, eying the fox with caution. Given that Nick is sitting, that leaves him shorter than Judy in height, providing enough of a difference so that her head can fit right… _ there _ .

Paws holding an egg-filled spoon freeze. Rabbit ears cannot pick up on scents, but there is no mistaking the racing heart beat and the jagged breaths. Mimicking the very first time Nick purred at her, Judy rubs her chin right between his ears, on top of his head.

_“Oh, Judy, ya know what you should do? You should scent-mark him back! Oh garsh that’ll rattle his fur!”_

_“Gid, I don’t know how to scent-mark.”_

_“‘Course you do! You bunnies just call it something different.”_

_“What?”_

_“You know, yer chin thing?”_

_“Chinning?”_

_“Yeah! That! I know you guys can’t smell it and that it means something different for y’all, but whenever I catch a rabbit rubbin’ their chin on another, their scent becomes really, really strong. It’s just like scent-marking but…different cultural meaning.”_

_“Huh.”_

Fox claws clutch at the table in a tight grip. Nick’s tail wags, but not in its usual motion. The movement is very…stilted, awkward.

Judy waits until she thinks enough of her scent has rubbed off on him before pulling away. Due to her dimmer sense of smell, all Judy can hope for is that she scent-marked him back.

“D-Did you just…?”

Nick trails off, eyes bugged out.

Judy forces herself to stare at him with a weird look. “Chin you? Like all respectable bunny hosts do to their guests?”

At his gaping maw, she giggles. “It’s a rabbit thing.”

Technically not a lie. Chinning truly  _ is  _ a rabbit cultural norm amongst friends and family. It serves as a platonic, affectionate gesture between two bunnies, and it has a broad range of purposes: comforting, greeting, and showing love towards one another.

In Judy’s case, it also serves the purpose of hustling her best friend into confessing his interest in her as a winter mate.

A plan that continues to deliver remarkable results.

“Why, what did you think I was doing?” Faux innocence hangs off her words. Normal Nick would have detected the hustle. Normal Nick would have called her out on the mind game she’s playing with him. 

Except Normal Nick combusted and disappeared a while ago, leaving behind tatters of a confident, sly fox. In front of Judy is Hot-Mess-Express Nick who can’t help the effects of mating season and doesn’t know how to handle his unstable mental state. He refuses to meet her eyes and glues his stare to the plate of food.  _ Clink clink clink _ . Although his claws are out of sight, Judy picks up on the anxious fumbling.

All right…she could spare him. For a moment.

“Better get going on that breakfast, partner. I promised mom we’d help with groceries. Besides, I want to show you around the area.”

She doesn’t miss the gulp of relief. Or the sudden deflation his body undergoes. While he has yet to revert to the wise-crackin’ troll that he is, the tension that permeated the atmosphere moments ago has lifted. It’s probably a smart idea to give him a break…his reactions are far more hysterical when he has a false sense of security, anyway.

“Coffee?” Nick asks, the question resembling a plea for mercy more so than an actual request.

Judy pats his shoulder. He stiffens at the brief contact, and Judy bounces away before he can say anything else.


	10. Paw-kward Tension

Even with the plan hovering in the back of her mind, Judy jitters with excitement at the prospect of showing off her hometown to Nick. Open green fields had already captured his interest in the car; he has yet to witness the view from the tall hills, or hike by the waterfalls, or shop around the quaint little town full of ma-and-pop stores.

“—and we have the corn maze too! It used to be really confusing and hard to follow, but they’ve really been improving the organization lately.”

Eyes intent on the road, Judy resorts to almost-shouting in the car and waving her paw around to convey her enthusiasm. Typically Nick picks and chooses the spots for them to hang out, considering his vast knowledge of Zootopia and the mammals living in it. The role reversal is refreshing to her; it feels nice being inside her comfort zone and acting like the know-it-all tour guide, for once.

It feels even nicer to see Nick show a real smile. The type that makes her stomach feel gooey.  

“Carrots, if being Chief of Police doesn’t work out one day, you should really consider being a Bunnyburrow travel agent.”

She huffs. “I don’t want to be Chief of Police. I’m happy where I am.”

Judy lets the statement hang for a bit. Then, “Which is with you, partner.”

Light giggles bubble up in her throat at Nick’s wheezing noises. She commends him for _trying_ to hide how flustered he is, despite that fact that he’s failing. Miserably.

“So,” he coughs, “Uh…Bunnyburrow?”

“Oh yeah!” She resumes her spiel. “Remind me to take you to Gideon’s bakery. I know you love blueberries, but he has a bunch of other really good flavors too! It’s located about a block down from the main square.”

Plus she looks forward to the two polar-opposite foxes meeting one another. While of the same species, they come from wildly different backgrounds, and their differences make her wonder if they’ll get along or not. Which they should. Hopefully.

“Hey, Carrots?” Nick asks, sounding hesitant.

“Hm?”

“Thanks. For…for everything. You didn’t have to bring me, you know.”

Sweet lemon, is he really playing the self-loathing, _you-deserve-better-than-me_ game right now?

With a stern voice, she states, “Nick. I wouldn’t ever want to bring anyone else. You’re my-”

(she means to say best friend)

“-fox.”

Cheese sticks.

She didn’t mean to say that. She _really_ didn’t mean to say that.

“ _Be careful in your wording, Ms. Judy. Foxes are really territorial. Until you’re ready to confess, try to avoid insinuating a possessive word over him.”_

Sure enough, Nick’s claws pierce the edge of his seat, drawing out a loud ripping sound. Bunny ears pick up on the elevated heartbeat, the hitch in his breathing, the rumble in his throat. His feetpaws tap the floor at a rapid-fire pace. Out of the corner of her eyes, she detects _The Look_.

Part of her feels scared. But not fear of him hurting her.

“Nick…?”

He closes his eyes. For a second, Judy can actually smell his musky scent, despite the distance between the two. Silence hangs between them, tension so thick that not even a knife could cut through it.

Somehow, Nick manages to get out in a normal, unassuming tone, “Are we there yet?”

Because she’s driving, Judy can’t look him in the eye. She can’t see past his fake exterior to get a better indicator of whether he’s truly okay or not.

“A few more minutes,” she mutters.

Slick Nick is back in action. He starts cracking silly jokes, pretending as though he didn’t just completely space out.

Judy keeps up with the banter. Her heart, however, continues beating so loud she thinks she might pass out if she doesn’t get fresh air soon. Nick’s scent…it does something to her. Not to the point where she can’t control herself but…well…bunnies _are_ known for multiplying. Constantly. Due to…well. Biology.  

Against her will, her nose twitches and the foot not on the pedal thumps the floor.

Dear God, why did she think this was a good idea?

* * *

When they arrive, Judy all but springs out of the truck and bounces far away from the hotbox of pheromones.

“Here we are! Let’s go!”

Fiddlesticks, she sounds desperate. _Ugh_ , it’s not as though she struggled to remain cool and confident this morning. Now the confidence fades away, along with her sanity.

Nick explained the concept of karma to her once. If karma does exist, Judy’s pretty sure she’s on the receiving end of the bad kind.

“Carrots, wait up!”

Nick sprints after her, grabbing her elbow and halting her with a squeeze. Pants heave out of him, and Judy just now notices the respectable distance between their current spot and the truck.

Blunt and accusing, he states, “You’re stressed.”

She titters, ear flopping behind her head as a foot toes the ground, “Wha—me? S-Stressed? No, no no no nononono, no stress here. Completely stressed out— _free!_ Completely stress- _free_. All relaxed. All calm. It’s great!”

(she may possibly probably definitely hate how pathetic she is)

Nick rolls his eyes. “You _do_ know you’re literally the worst liar in existence, right?”

She tries to argue, only for him to continue, “Listen, Judy, I don’t like seeing you uncomfortable. And right now, you’re _really_ uncomfortable.”

Fudge. He’s calling her by her actual name. Which means there’s an incoming Serious-Conversation-With-Nick-Wilde.

“And it’s weird because you were just fine a couple of minutes ago.”

He pauses, and the serious demeanor melts into a self-conscious one. “I…Is there something I said or…did? I know I’ve been a little off my game lately but I don’t—I never wanted to hurt you. Or make you upset. Or…”

As he trails off, Judy struggles to form some sort of believable explanation. To be honest, _she_ doesn’t even know what’s going on with _herself._ Hormones, combined with the increased intensity of his musk, must be the cause of her physical reaction.

Clarity rushes back at the (adorably sad) pout on Nick’s muzzle. Her resolve hardens. Hormones can take a backseat; right now, she promised her fox a fun weekend that involved exploring the country and meeting Judy’s community.

Judy never breaks her promises.

She places a gentle paw on his arm, afterwards peeking up at him and beaming wide. Nick appears somewhat shocked at the gesture, his tail fur bristling.

Judy assures, “You haven’t done anything I haven’t liked. Promise.”

The way she words it, he may perceive it as a confession. Part of her kind of hopes he does.

Nick sighs in relief. “Okay, just making sure.”

_Oh, it’s just my triggered bunny hormones that drive me up a wall and make me overthink, like, **everything**. No big deal, I just may spaz out in the middle of conversation or have a bipolar episode and switch moods more frequently than a pregnant mammal._

Instead, she says, “I might be a little anxious. I swear, though, it’s not because of you.”

Ah, there’s a good answer! A lot of fact omission covered by honesty!

Nick raises a finger, and Judy recognizes the action to know that the fox will turn into an annoyingly-overprotective worry wart if she doesn’t derail him. Hm. What else did Gideon suggest to her that would evoke a strong reaction? Scent-marking, tail scratching, ear rubbing, paw—

That’s it.

“All right, great pep talk and all, but time’s-a-wastin’, and I want to make it back home before it gets late.”

Before he can get a word or protest in edgewise –

(and before she can process the stupidity and forwardness of what she’s about to do)

– Judy grabs his paw, holds it tight in hers, and leads the way towards the main square as she adjusts her grip to slide their fingers together.

Intense warmth ebbs out from his fur and skin at the point of contact between their paws. Judy wonders if Nick has always been this warm, or if there’s another reason behind it. Regardless, this feels…nice. _Really_ nice.

Judging by the soft purr and smitten expression Nick tries to hide at their paw-holding, the fox shares the same sentiment.

* * *

If she knew holding Nick’s paw would have tied his tongue and ceased all forms of talking, Judy would have done this a long, long, _long_ time ago.

Under the pretense of needing to “guide” and “direct” Nick around town, the bunny has yet to relinquish her hold. During the first few minutes of wandering around town, Nick had donned a dazed, dopey grin on his muzzle. Now, he seems more reserved. Cautious. Enough to remain silent and not form some kind of sarcastic remark every five seconds.

This may be the best day of Judy’s life.

“If you follow that street all the way down, you end up at my high school. It’s actually, like, really big. There’s so many large bunny families out here with hundreds of kits, y’know?”

Nick doesn’t comment, but Judy can tell by the swivel of his ears that he pays close attention to what she’s saying.

“That place over there has _the best_ salads. I mean, I know you’re not a big veggie guy but the ingredients are straight off the farm and super fresh and there’s so many varieties! There’s fruit salads and veggie salads and even bug salads to help cater to the few predators that live here. Most mammals think Bunnyburrow is full of bunnies and, okay, it kind of is, _but_ there are still plenty of other species of mammals like sheep and weasels and squirrels—“

Run-on sentences spew out of her mouth without control. In absence of Nick’s humor, she feels obligated to fill in the empty air somehow. So she does. With rambling. To his credit, Nick absorbs every piece of information she provides without protest.

“—oh my garnishes, Sheila’s is _the_ bar to go to; it’s packed basically every night. That’s where I earned my alcohol tolerance, by the way. You city-slickers can say all you want but us countryfolk _know_ how to hold our liquor. Granted I’m probably more of a city gal now but it’s all about the roots.”

Still no response, though his green eyes are wide and alert.

Breaking in front of Sheila’s Pub, Judy turns around to fully face Nick and frown. “You can stop me if you’re bored, Slick. I won’t be offended.”

He doesn’t hesitate to reassure her, “I’m not bored.” His thumb pets the top fur of her paw. “I’m just listening.”

Judy represses a shiver. His voice sounds abnormal. Not in a bad way, per se, but definitely calm and relaxed. _Too_ calm and relaxed. Similar to how he was when he rolled around her room’s carpet, but with more lucidity.

She knows his exaggerated response from that night attributed to the whole “den” thing Gideon had explained to her. Maybe the paw holding affects him too?

Giving him a side glance, Judy rules out that possibility. _No. It’s something else_. _I have a feeling_.

“Want to head back to the plaza? The bakery is on the other side. We can hit up Gideon’s for a treat.”

While he answers an affirmative to her and changes direction, Judy still detects a strange _off-_ ness about him. Impossible to explain, but definitely there.

She musters enough courage to ask, “You’re okay too, right? Like…none of this is making you uncomfortable, is it?”

He pierces her with an incredulous stare, breaking his serious and focused gaze. “What would I have to be uncomfortable about?”

Judy shrugs. _Me scent-marking you this morning. Holding your paw. Dragging you around my hometown filled with traditional prey that have been giving us noticeable stares all around the square._

“Judes, I’ve already told you, I really appreciate being here. Honest.”

Maybe he’s not aware of it when it happens. Maybe it’s instinctual. Maybe he couldn’t help himself. Whatever the case, his tail sways so that it wraps around Judy’s legs and forces the two mammals to face one another. He (unfortunately) releases her paw so that both of his can grasp onto her shoulders in a consoling hold. Their snouts are close—really, really close—and Nick’s musk suffocates Judy’s senses to the point that she feels intoxicated.

His pupils dilate. Nick's breaths sound like deep inhales. For a moment, Judy thinks she knows where this is going. For a moment, she wants to purse her lips and hope beyond hope that Nick closes the distance between their snouts. For a moment, this whole stupid “prank war of affection” thing is set on fire and chucked out the window of a 60-story building.

For a moment, it looks as though Nick knows her true feelings.

But just for a moment.

Eyes pinched closed now, he moves away from their intimate position to regain his breath. Voice sounding strangled, he says, “Sorry, I, uh, got carried away.”

She blinks, not quite yet out of her trance from before. “Huh?”

Nick drags a paw down his face and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

Blinking harder, Judy forces herself to question again, “Nick?”

“Nothing,” he responds immediately, “I mean, let’s just…aren’t we supposed to be heading for Gideon’s?”

Without waiting for her answer, the fox spins away on his tail, his gait determined and quick.

Even after Judy catches up to him, they don’t hold paws again.

* * *

Despite the awkward tension from before, Nick portrays nothing but calm composure on the way to Gideon’s. He even asks Judy to quiz him on the information and history she had relayed to him earlier when they first entered town. Though frustration swells up under Judy’s skin at his blatant emotional retreat, at least her nerves and anxiety dissipate.

Back there, they had been close. _So close_. Imprints of Nick’s fluffy tail wrapped around her legs and his claws gently holding her shoulders still tingle in her fur. Her ears perk straight up, tense and unable to loosen.

So, so, _so_ close.

“And Shelby’s is the bar—”

“ _Sheila’s_ , Nick.”

“Right. So Shelly’s—”

“Nick, I just _told_ you that it’s _Sheila’s._ ”

“What’s Sheila’s?”

 _Ugh._ “The bar!”

“Yes, the bar, Sherry’s—”

“Nick!”

He laughs at her annoyance, and she feels tempted to take a swipe at that sensitive spot near the base of his tail. Yeah. Who’d be laughing _then,_ Slick?

Five seconds. She’s five seconds away from doing it and potentially embarrassing him in public, when Judy hears a mammal stomping their way towards her and her partner.

At the academy, mammals are trained to recognize sounds and noises in case a perpetrator tries to sneak up on an officer. Judy not only has the training, but bunny ears can hear from miles away. The mammal—a pig, maybe, considering it’s a hoof-clacking noise and one that doesn't shake the sidewalk—heads straight in their direction, gaining distance. She can hear the curses under their breath—a decidedly masculine voice. Male pig. Perhaps in his 50s considering the roughness in his tone.

There’s a chance, a miniscule one, that the pig is going to pass by her and Nick without any sort of confrontation whatsoever.

But Judy has learned not to rely on good luck in these types of situations.

Nick seems to notice too. Together, the two share a glance, and then simultaneously turn their heads back to glimpse their suspected follower.

Sure enough, it is a middle-aged male pig. Doused in an postal uniform (a mailimal?) he marches up to them, glare and scowl in tow.

“Excuse me,” he huffs, glaring between the two of them, “But can’t you leave the PDA at home?”

Judy knew to prepare for the prejudice in advance. Not that she could give a fluff what others think about her, or about her association with Nick, but she knows herself. She can ignore someone giving _her_ a look or judging _her_ , but if any of those mammals so much as scowl or mutter a curse in _Nick’s_ direction, Judy swears she’ll kick them hard enough to break bones.

“PDA?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry. I wasn’t aware that _having a normal conversation between friends_ was strictly forbidden.”

An eye roll accompanies the statement, only worsening the pig’s temper.

“Oh please, as if you weren’t the same slimy fox and bunny holding _paws_ before,” he scoffs. “What kind of indecent mammals are you? There are kits here!”

There are three aspects of this pig’s rudeness that tick Judy off. One, the fact that he’s assuming, based on _banter_ of all things, they’re in a relationship (granted they’re hopefully on the way there but _that’s not the point-_ ). Two, even if they _were_ in a relationship, the fact that love between two species is considered “indecent”.

And three? That he dare to call Nick _slimy_ and contribute to the pale, petrified frown on the fox’s face.

_Judy, you are an officer of the law. You are **not** allowed to cause bodily harm unto a civilian, despite their clear bigotry and unjustified intolerance. Yes, that means you can’t kick him into a ditch. Or skin him with a knife. Or rake your nails across his face—_

Probably unbeknownst to the pig, but caught by Judy’s ear, Nick releases a small whimper.

 _—oh, but this fluffin’, jackrabbit, son of a berry would_ **_deserve it_** _._

Utilizing all sense of self-control (which, honestly, isn’t a lot to begin with) Judy takes a deep breath. Once she collects herself, she states firmly, “Sir, the only mammal indecent here is _you_ for harassing – not only completely innocent civilians – but also two highly-respected officers of the law.”

She holds back a cackle at the pig’s mortified expression.

Forcing a strict, commanding tone, Judy adds, “Should you continue your verbal harassment further, my partner and I have the right to sentence you up to seven years of prison—”

(a complete and total lie)

“—and fine you a sum ten times the amount of your yearly salary.”

As a testament to her words, she whips out her badge and flashes it in his face. His eyes widen, probably shocked at the authentic shine and material.

“Judy Hopps and Nicholas Wilde? ZPD? Remember us?”

Judy grins wide.

The pig appears like he’s trying not to throw up on himself.

“That being said,” Judy plows on, her voice adopting that false sweetness she’s so well-known for, “I suggest you leave the premises and bother someone else with your backwards attitude.”

The pig gaps at her, before gathering his remaining dignity (see: none) and giving a rough shove to her side.

Up until that point, Nick had been completely silent in the matter.

Before Judy can retaliate to the rude departure or process the action, Nick _flies_ past her vision and tackles the pig to the ground. Within seconds, he pins the pig’s hooves to the side, while snarling and growling above him. A glance at his face reveals his dark, intimidating expression. He almost…he almost looks…

 _Savage_ , Judy realizes with dread, noticing the various onlookers staring in horror at the scene. _Oh no oh no oh no NOT GOOD NOT GOOD._

Judy knows Nick isn’t savage. She knows that it’s his over-protective nature, in addition to the seasonal hormones that meddle with his ability to make thought-out, logical decisions in times of emotional distress. Meaning, despite that Judy is completely fine and has taken much worse hits in the line of duty and tolerated much worse insults from other jerks, Nick is going to obliterate any mammal that so much _touches_ Judy in any other way that isn’t friendly or affectionate.

And that others, who have _no idea_ about the context of the situation and who are all _traditional, prey mammals,_ are going to assume the worst possible scenario. That is, _Nick is a savage predator_.

It takes Judy a moment to conjure enough wits to restore the situation.

“Nice savage impression, Officer Wilde!” she exclaims with an exaggerated loudness. She turns to everyone around her. “Did you know Officer Wilde took drama classes in college? Guy’s a natural actor, if you can believe it. Sometimes it makes his jokes a little a little too realistic, huh?”

She lets out a chuckle, hoping the audience doesn’t note the hint of nervousness in the gesture. Nick’s ears bolt up and swivel towards her. Tension freezes his body in place and cuts off his growling. His muzzle faces the opposite direction, thus obscuring his facial expression from Judy’s view.

Judy yells again, “I think you spooked him enough, Nick. Come on, prank’s over.”

Nick scrambles off of him, chest heaving. When Judy finally peeks at his face, she can’t tell if he looks upset or ticked off. Maybe a little bit of both. Folks around them appear to relax and sighs of relief can be heard all around. It only takes a few moments for other mammals to continue about their business and walk away from the scene.

Well, except for the pig shaking in paralyzed fear on the ground and the fox hyperventilating beside her. _Most_ folks, anyway.

Letting Nick see the action to avoid him startling, Judy rests a soothing paw on his bicep. Calm lavender eyes connect with anxious emerald ones. “Nick, it’s fine. I’m okay, he didn’t hurt me.”

Those words bring him to his senses, and his frame is less stiff than before. Nick still breathes heavy, but his breaths gradually become more and more normal.

Wiping away the last of his unease, Judy lifts her paws and stands on her tip-toes to rub right behind his ears. Thinking back on Gideon’s instructions—“ _not too light or it’ll tickle, but not too rough because it’s a sensitive spot_ ”—she allows her blunt nails to scratch lightly through his fur, while her thumbpad massages the area where his ear connects to his head.

The effect is instantaneous. Nick’s form melts into lava, body slacking and tail and ears drooping. Not drooping in sadness, but rather in content relaxation. His eyes, that had been so intent and dark before, are light and dazed. Because they’re so close, she can hear and feel the rumble of the purr in his throat, in turn causing her to calm down too. His tongue even slips out into a slight pant, and his but is waggling so much from his happy tail movements.

If this hadn’t been such a serious situation, she probably would have laughed at how ridiculous he looks.

Still massaging his ears, she points a glare at the jerk on the ground. “I suggest you leave. _Now_.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The mailimal scrambles to his hooves and power-walks away, not glancing back behind him. She sighs, reflecting back on the almost-physical-assault that could have occurred. That was close. Honestly, she _should_ be furious with how reckless, unprofessional, and violent Nick had been. Not only could he have injured another innocent (granted, very bigoted) mammal, but he could have lost his job and reputation.

She bites her lip, peering at his face. But he had done it for _her_ sake, hadn’t he? Gideon told her multiple times about the intense overprotection, the unusually-extreme aggression if another mammal so much as _touched_ her, much less _hurt_ her. She had witnessed it herself.

Just…never at that level.

“Hey, Slick?” she murmurs, pulling her paws away and trying not to wince at the resulting whine. “Maybe next time…think before you act?”

What a complete understatement. There’s nothing else that comes to mind to say, though, that doesn’t hurt his feelings. Right now, in public and in this weird limbo of _unofficially-romantic-partners_ , she can’t hold a serious, angered discussion like that. Not now. Not yet.

A deep frown pulls on his muzzle, replacing any sort of affection from a few seconds prior. “I…I’m sorry, Judy.”

He looks away. “I have no excuse…none…for that.”

Shame lacing his voice, he mutters, “I’m really, _really_ sorry….can you forgive me?”

Judy stares at him. Hard. While she forgives him, he needs to know that this isn’t over. That she won’t forget this incident and will probably bring it up again when they’re both ready to discuss it.

So she gives him a small smirk. “Can I actually stay mad at my fox for more than five seconds?”

She pauses.

“No. No I cannot.”

The “my fox” is deliberate this time, and while Nick had originally startled at the words, now he gazes at her with…with…

“You know I love you.”

His usual smarmy phrase is worded differently. She wonders if he intends it or not.

“Do I know that?” she asks, grabbing his paw again and relishing at the warmth and delighted tail wag. She heads in the direction of the bakery, ignoring the hushed whispers around them and the shocked stares. “Yes. Yes I do.”


	11. Furgone Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, DrummerMax, for everything. *sends virtual cookies and cake* I probably wouldn't have posted this without your comments and suggestions.

This was a bad idea.

“—and then Judy tries to hop over the fence line, right? Except she doesn’t hop high enough, so when I turn around after radioing in the suspect’s location in the cruiser, she’s—she’s—”

Judy groans at the guffaws coming from both foxes, sitting next to one another at the high counter with beers in paw and arms slung around one another.

“—hanging by her workpants on the top of the fence!” Nick finally gets out, actual  _ tears  _ streaming down his face. “Gid, I tell ya buddy, it was like Captain Underpants in the best of ways.”

Judy doesn’t even  _ know  _ what Captain Underpants is, but Gideon must understand the reference, because suddenly he’s pounding on the countertop and laughing harder than before. She rolls her eyes at them, seated at Nick’s other side so that he’s sandwiched between her and Gideon.

To think, she had been nervous about them not getting along. Oh, they get along all right.  _ Too well _ .

She attempts to talk over them. “For the record, if you think  _ that’s  _ an embarrassing story, you haven’t even  _ heard  _ what happened when Nick saw a praying mantis for the first time.”

The shaking body next to her freezes in horror. “Judith, we both agreed—”

“That I would never mention it to anyone  _ in Zootopia _ .”

He swivels in his chair to her, a mock-serious expression on his face. “If I’m going down, you’re going down with me. Don’t believe  _ for one second _ I’m above using the story about the taser and Rhinowitz.”

Judy chokes on air, and Gideon glances eagerly between the two of them. “Wha’s that about a taser and a rhino?”

She glares at Nick. “Still not as bad as when you bumped into Bogo at Vixenoria’s Secret.”

He gapes at her. “You  _ monster— _ ”

“ _Me?_ _You_ brought up the underpants story!”

“ _ You  _ told Gideon about the  _ jumbo pop hustle _ .”

“That was  _ after  _ you told him about how I  _ stepped in wet cement _ .”

The mention of it causes Nick to erupt in cackles. “Oh _God_ , I _still_ consider that the best day of my life.”

“Of course it was. That was when you met  _ me. _ ”

She bats her eyelashes, and Nick starts another bout of laughter.

Gideon grins at them from the side. “You two are crazier than a buncha intoxicated doohickeys, ya know that?”

Nick corrects, “Crazier than? We  _ are  _ a bunch of intoxicated doo-whats-its.”

Judy scowls at him. “Speak for yourself.  _ I  _ am the designated driver.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he sing-songs back to her, fluttering  _ his  _ eyelashes now.

“Oh I sure hope you ain’t drunk already,” Gideon chuckles. “You haven’t even gone to  _ Sheila’s _ yet.”

The other fox’s eyes gleam. “Right, Sharla’s! Forgot all about it.”

Gideon blinks. “Actually, Nick, it’s—”

“ _ Don’t _ get him started,” Judy bemoans, poking Nick when he shoots Gideon an angelic smile. This results in a pushing and shoving fight between the two, each of them grunting and insulting one another in the process.

Unbeknownst to each of them, Gideon smirks at the playfight.

Gideon interrupts their little spat with a loud, ostentatious yawn. “Well guys, nice seeing y’all, but I was up late last night and I need a lil afternoon nap to recuperate.”

This prompts Judy to help him clean up the pie crumbs everywhere and throw the beer bottles in the recycling bin. Nick’s not  _ really _ drunk, but he may be a bit more buzzed than usual. It’s difficult to determine when said fox acts the same sober as he does tipsy.

“Hey, Nicky, ya mind carrying up the big box o’ pies downstairs while Judy and I clean up?”

Judy almost drops the pie pan she means to place in the sink. Nick doesn’t notice.

“Sure,” he shrugs, heading towards the back of the bakery, where a set of stairs lead to an underground basement. This leaves Judy and Gideon alone, the latter of which grins at Judy while she attempts to regain her breathing.

“So?” he asks her, a meaningful tilt to his question.

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “I…It’s…We’re getting there.”

The fox frowns at her, eyebrows raising to his cowlick. “Ms. Judy, the both of y’all been flirting with one another all afternoon!”

“Sh!” she hisses, darting her eyes to the double doors Nick just went through. Gideon rolls his eyes in response, shaking his head.

“I thought you were gonna mess with him!”

“I did!”

“And?”

She blushes, toeing the ground. Well, she  _ did  _ follow through with what they had planned together. As much as she could, anyway. Considering her hormonal lapses and the incident in the main square, a few hindrances slowed down their journey to the end goal.

Gideon sighs, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Ms. Judy, yer scents are so intermingled with one another I can’t even tell the differences between the two of you.”

_ WHAT? _

“T-they are?” she stutters out, dread hitting her. Cripes—no wonder they drew so much attention in town today. Did her parents know? Her siblings? God, how obvious had they been? Can Nick smell it? What abou—

He raises his paws in a placating gesture. “Hey now, nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just…you know…get rollin’ with it. When that tod first came in the shop I swear he looked more flustered than my mama when she got hit on by a stripper. If he doesn’t know now, he has to at least suspect it.”

Judy opens her mouth to bombard Gideon with every pent-up question in her throat, when Nick strolls in holding a giant pastry-filled box. “Jeez, Gid, you didn’t mention this thing was full of  _ rocks _ .”

Gideon blinks at him blankly. “They’re not.”

“Sarcasm, my fellow fox. Sarcasm.”

Judy chokes down on what she had almost asked, disappointment making her ears droop. She very well can’t ask with Nick in the room, and it would be suspicious if she tried to give herself alone time with Gideon again. 

_ Tonight. I need to do it tonight _ , she thinks to herself, trying to reach for her inner determination.  _ I don’t know if I can go another night “platonically” snuggled up next to him without going crazy. _

Judy and Nick bid farewells and shuffle out the door. As Judy passes Gideon on her way out, the fox holds her shoulder with his paw and whispers just low enough so that Nick can’t hear, “Lick his nose.”

“What? But you said that means—”

“I know. Just do it.”

Oh biscuits. She gulps.

“So, fluff?” Nick asks her when they walk outside and give a final wave to the baker. “What now?”

Judy acts as though Gideon didn’t just tell her to basically imply that she thinks Nick’s tail looks cute. It’s still early afternoon, so she has time to ease up. Time to think this through, prepare herself emotionally and eventually, finally,  _ hopefully  _ end the constant loop of confusion and awkwardness between the two of them. She can do this. She’s Judy Hopps— _ she can do this _ .

* * *

She can’t do this.

The target stands in a precarious manner by the bench, unaware of his surroundings and open to attack. Not many public spectators are about, which provides ample opportunity to exit the restroom doors and sneak up on him. Engrossed in his phone, his ears don’t even twitch as she approaches him, quiet and light on her feet.

She shouldn’t. She really, really,  _ really _ shouldn’t. This will break a lot of personal boundaries, if she goes through with it.

…Pfft. As if they haven’t been doing that since they arrived at Bunnyburrow.

Okay, focus. Relax. Got to gain distance and wait right… _ there _ . Even with police training, his ears aren’t sensitive enough to catch her when she puts deliberate effort to masking her movements with noises from around them. Move only when a car drives by. Release a breath when a group of skunks stroll along the sidewalk past him.

Blood rushes up and swirls in her cheeks. Will she regret this?

(yes, most likely, probably, yeah)

Welp. No retreating now.

Mere feet separate Judy from her target. She eyes the red fur on his cheek. Clicks ding from Nick’s phone as he sends out a text to someone. Might as well just  _ do it _ , right?

With all the grace she can conjure, Judy glomps Nick, the force almost toppling over the two mammals onto the concrete.

“WHAT THE— _ CARROTS, WHAT ARE YOU— _ ”

Before he finishes his heated shout, she pokes out her tongue and licks his nose. Nick freezes, eyes wide open, while strangled noises emit from his muzzle. He’s choking—on what, his saliva?—and Judy watches his whiskers and eyes twitch and body spasm.

Staring at him any longer will make her lose her composure, so Judy hops off and eases a silly grin on her face. “Hah! You should’ve seen your face! That’s payback for starting up the embarrassing stories.”

He attempts stammering out a comeback, but she just grins and skips off in the direction of the bar before she cries. Or laughs. Or does both. 

For what it’s worth, Nick doesn’t seem to be faring much better. Jaw slack, eyes wide, he looks almost as shocked as this morning. Judy forces herself to not wring her paws together or blurt out a confession so soon. Even after all this time and all the insight she’s been provided, she still can’t bring herself to just  _ tell him _ . 

She lets out a weary sigh.  _ This won’t be easy. Not by a long shot. _

But she sure hopes it will be worth it.

* * *

Hours later, Judy is surprised she hasn’t keeled over and buried herself in the ground yet.

Her and Nick sit side by side on the hill, gazing at the ethereal beauty before them. Shining white dots spatter amongst the sky, highlighted by a misty blend of dark colors. It’s…

“Amazing,” Nick whispers in awe. Judy thinks she can see the sparkles of the stars reflect in his eyes.

“Yeah, it really is,” she agrees, glancing up and smiling. 

Comfortable silence blankets them and distracts Judy from her earlier anxiety. Right here, right now, Judy’s hormones and pent-up stress from the past month remain silent, allowing her to just  _ breathe  _ and absorb this pleasant time together.

“I had a lot of fun today, Judy,” Nick admits, smiling at the view. “Thanks for showing me around and putting up with me.”

Inches away from him, her foot itches to nudge his.

“I’m glad you liked it,” she says back softly.

Judy almost decides against disrupting the ever-rare peaceful moment. She could drag this out. Avoid the conversation. Allow them to run exhaustive circles around each other like they’ve been doing this entire season. Romance has never been an area of life where she felt confident or in control. Despite her independence, despite her strength and willpower, despite the high self-esteem and intense ambition—Judy Hopps fears love.

Her breath halts, the sporadic epiphany hitting her  _ hard _ .

She is scared of love—or, more accurately, scared  _ to  _ love. Weird as it sounds, it makes a disturbing amount of sense. It explains why she gets so tongue-tied around  _ him _ ; why her heart runs rampant every time she flirts and puts her feelings on display; why she hasn’t confessed sooner, and why she’s been stalling for time. 

“Penny for your thought, Carrots?”

Cotton wedged in her throat dispels her from deflecting the question. Not that it would fool him for a second.

She swallows and states, “I think we need to talk.”

“Uh-oh, the most dreaded phrase known to mammalkind,” Nick chuckles, though his voice is weary underneath the mirth.

Judy takes a deep breath. _ Here goes nothing _ . “Why did you attack the pig? From before?”

She can’t bring herself to glimpse his facial expression. Part of her doesn’t want to confront him, to finally end the little dance they’ve been following all this time. The other part, the logical and desperate one, knows that this has been a long-time coming, and that she’ll regret not going through with it.

He doesn’t respond right away. When he does, he sounds very careful. “Why wouldn’t I stick up for my friend?”

“Nick, you  _ attacked _ him.”

He sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry I acted out of line, but I’m not sorry for my intentions behind it.”

“Those intentions being…?”

Of course, no answer. She tries a different tactic. “Okay. So you were sticking up for me. But was it really as just a friend?”

_ This  _ breaks the stony wall. Eyes wide, he looks at her, body tense. “What do you mean?”

Oh god. It’s happening.  _ Now _ .

“I have another question to ask you.”

Before the statement ends, she grabs him by the tie and brings him down to her level. His heart rate skyrockets, beating loudly and prompting her to keep going forward. She focuses on his emerald orbs, leaving only a small inch of space between their muzzles. Without a word, she nuzzles the side of his cheek, rubbing her chin against it back and forth for a little, before doing the same to the other cheek.

When she pulls back, Nick is gaping at her, his fur standing on end all over. He knows exactly what she just asked of him. “You,” he murmurs, touching the spot where she marked him, “you…you just…but…”

Crackers, she genuinely can’t do this anymore. Unable to face him, the rabbit toes the ground and glances away. Voice meek, she concedes, “I may have had a detailed conversation with Gideon about fox mating season, recently.”

Silence. Unlike a few moments ago, this one isn’t comfortable or peaceful.

“Fox…mating…season…” he repeats, voice sounding detached.

Judy gnaws on her lip. “Yeah.”

For a while, he stews on that. His heartbeat seems to return to a normal pace, though his nails tinkle from anxious fumbling.

Claws grip her shoulders in a sudden tight lock, startling Judy and forcing her to face him. When she does, his eyes are narrowed, accusing. Fear runs rampant in her gut, prodding her with memories of the day of the press conference, right before Nick had walked out on her for three months. Oh no— _ ohnoohnoohnoohno— _

“You knew.” It’s not a question.

Unable to form a coherent response, she nods her head and closes her eyes. Her body stills itself and prepares for his inevitable hatred. In hindsight, hustling her best friend’s emotions is kind of a jackrabbit move. All those freak outs, the awkward moments, the fox’s flustered state—she could have just been straightforward and solved this whole mess. How horrible of a friend she is; if he walks away now, she won’t even blame him.

Except –

He doesn’t.

Just silence. Her eyes refuse to open. No sounds hit her sensitive ears, no rise/fall in Nick’s heartbeat, no haggard breathing. The press conference, at least, she could count as a fixable mistake. Judy had stereotyped him unintentionally, which had dissipated after the case and after she gained him as a partner. She hadn’t known any better.

But this she had known  _ exactly  _ what was going on. Maybe not the entire time, but long enough to have confessed to him sooner. To have proposed to him like a vixen would the moment she knew of his interest.

She continues to wait...and wait...

And then, without any warning, she feels soft, soft,  _ soft  _ fur tickling her cheek.

Her breath hitches. She opens her eyes.  _ He said yes.  _

And, god, if the adoration in his eyes isn’t the most gorgeous thing in the world.

“You,” his voice cracks, “dumb bunny…”

As he trails off, he wraps his arms around her, securing her in a tight, needy grip. Loud purring pours from his throat, louder than she’s ever heard it, the noise flowing into her ears and lighting a spark in her chest.

“You—” he pauses, before laughing, “you hustled me. You hustled me  _ good _ .”

Judy still can’t scour enough sense to create a full sentence and say something intelligible. Someone poured gasoline on her ears and added a match to ignite them on fire, she’s convinced. Or maybe love is just as cheesy as the romance novels make them out to be and passion between two mammals really  _ does  _ feel like this.

Tears pool in her eyes before she can control them..

“Did you…did you understand—”

The hope in Nick’s voice encourages her to nod.

When she does, he lifts her and swings her in a circle, his laugh waking her up from her nigh-unconscious state.

“Aren’t you mad?” she croaks.

He stiffens a little, mulling over her words. “Honestly? Yeah, a little. But to be frank – ”

He tightens his embrace around her, rubbing his cheek all over her head—scent-marking her. Officially.

“– I really just want to kiss you right now.”

In an instant, he has her pinned to the ground on all fours, her limbs weighed down by his. Fox claws massage up her arms and tickle the skin underneath her fur. Nick’s tail wags behind him, swishing across her foot every so often, the contact electrifying her.

They lock gazes. Though there is hardly any distance between their muzzles, Judy knows he’s waiting for her to initiate it. Despite the darkness in his eyes, despite his small, labored breaths, despite his heartbeat clamoring, she knows he would never force anything upon her, never move forward without her consent.

She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling self-conscious at the intense glint in his expression. “Is it weird? Me being a bunny?”

His laugh reverberates through both of them, dark and deep. “You’re not a bunny. You’re  _ Judy _ .”

Desperation and want encourage her to just  _ do it _ , to just jump right into it without preamble, but a tiny little doubt wriggles in her belly. Prompts her to ask, “And you? Is this Nick? Or is this fox hormones?”

He doesn’t answer her question. “Do I, Nick Wilde, love you, Judy Hopps?”

With his paw, he takes a gentle hold of her ear and brings it under his shirt so he can press it against his chest. Given the new position, his heart beat is clearer than she’s ever heard it before.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Patterned thumps hold steady in his chest, not jumping out of their rhythm. At that piece of evidence, she pulls him down by his tie and presses her lips against his. 

It’s weird, she won’t deny it. Weird and awkward and kind of ticklish. Yet, she can’t help the jolt of electricity coursing through her, nor the burst of warmth that makes her toes curl. Right here, right now, this is the start of  _ them _ , and as odd as their coupling is, as sudden and new as the passion is--

Judy can’t envision herself being anywhere else.

* * *

“Do y’all really have to leave so soon?” Stu asks, his lip jutting out into a disappointed pout.

Judy and Bonnie sigh in synchrony, while Nick just claps a paw on his back with a toothy grin. “For someone who sent their daughter to the city with a fox taser, I’m surprised you’re so upset to see me go.”

Stu clamps up and blushes, Judy releasing a laugh at his embarrassment. “Hey! That was a long time ago! I’m long past that, I swear it.”

“Of course, dear,” Bonnie pats his arm.

Seeing the contact tempts Judy to pat Nick’s arm too. Or maybe hold his paw. Or kiss him.  _ Something _ . One shared look with her mother, however, and she knows she needs to refrain for now. Her dad may love Nick like a son, but even Stu Hopps has his limits on how progressive he can be. “ _ Baby steps _ ” _ , _ her mother had assured her the previous night, after hearing about their official relationship. “ _ Break it to him in baby steps. _ ”

Judy hugs her dad, squeezing him around the shoulders. “I hate this part.”

He sighs. “Me too, hun, me too.”

She moves on to her mother next. While locked into a loving embrace, her mother murmurs to her, “Let me know how the conversation goes.”

Nick and Stu are too wrapped up in their affection joking with one another, clapping each other’s backs and sharing laughs to even notice the mother and daughter. “I will. I’m scared.”

“After all that you went through to make it to this point, don’t you think it’s time to stop hiding behind barriers?”

Judy quirks her mouth into a strained smile. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

* * *

Darkness cloaks the bedroom, the only source of light emanating from the digital alarm clock on Nick’s night stand. Regardless of how much Judy squints, her eyes can’t adjust to the dark, leaving her practically blind. Even without her sight, however, she can still hear Nick’s heartbeat, meaning he’s awake and probably going to reprimand her about “ _ not getting proper rest”  _ soon.

Sure enough: “Fluff, why aren’t you asleep yet?” A grumble sounds from behind her.

“How did you even know I was awake?”

Arms already wrapped around her, Nick just pulls her closer to him, erasing any space between her backside and his chest. The contact between their furs generates a flutter in her heart. “I can’t really explain it. I just sense it.”

_ I just sense it _ . That has been his explanation for quite a few things, as of late. He has always been good at reading her, but somehow their new relationship development has improved his ability to do so.

“Judy?”

Sigh. “Nick, I’m fine. Just go back to sleep.”

_ Liarliarliarliarliarliar— _

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

He burrows his snout right at the junction of her neck, inhaling deep. A furry appendage snakes its way over her foot, coiling up around her leg and bringing extra warmth with it.

Nick mumbles, breath fanning out against her neck, “I can’t sleep unless  _ you  _ sleep.”

“Why not?”

Rather than provide an answer, he starts licking her ears.

“Ewww, ew ew ew, Nick, hahaha, Nick, stop it! You know I’m ticklish!”

She tries squirming out of his grip to escape the sudden tongue bath, but he rolls his body over her and holds her down with his weight. Giggles bounce out of her mouth and echo around the room, nearly causing her to forget why she’s awake in the first place. With their new position, his tongue now has access to her face, licking  _ everywhere  _ and leaving fox saliva in its trek.

“Nick, stop—mpphr-”

Fox tongue slipping in her mouth and initiating a sudden make-out session, Nick halts her protest and distracts her for a minute, only pulling away after she stops trying to escape his hold.

Knowing he can see her, Judy glares in what she thinks is the direction of his face. “ _ Really? _ ”

Night vision isn’t necessary to know he’s smirking. “You’re having issues adjusting to the culture shock of our relationship. I’m simply trying to help you acclimate.”

“By  _ grooming  _ me at  _ eleven o’clock at night _ ?”

“Well, you wouldn’t let me do it this morning.”

“Because it’s  _ gross _ . And I’m not going into work with fox drool all over me!”

“Ma’am! You are insulting a very essential aspect of fox culture.”

“A very  _ disgusting  _ aspect of fox culture.”

“I’ll have you know that many vixens would be jealous to hear that you’re receiving a daily grooming session by Nicholas P. Wilde.”

She huffs and crosses her arms.

“Aw, come on, you know you like it.”

She sighs. “I don’t have to do it in return, right?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you did.”

“Hmm,” she grunts, tentatively seeking out his ears and scratching in the spot he likes. Just as she intended, Nick starts panting above her, and his tail unwraps itself from her legs. She can hear the  _ swoosh  _ of his tail as it wags behind him.

“I don’t know, Wilde. You can barely compose yourself with an ear scratch, and you want me to groom you?”

“I.”  _ Pant. _ “Compose.”  _ Pant.  _ “Myself just fine.”

“Of course you do. That’s why you  _ loved  _ the buck that made my coffee this morning.”

A sudden growl racks his body and disrupts the affectionate moment. Muscular arms tighten around her in a possessive grip. Furry cheeks rub against her in a frantic, rapid motion.

“ _ Mine _ ,” he snarls, finishing the scent-marking with his nose at her chin.

Already accustomed to his erratic bouts of seasonal possessiveness, Judy deadpans, “Uh-huh. The epitome of complete composure.”

The growl causes his voice to deepen an octave. “He was staring at your tail. I didn’t like it.”

Warmth crawls up Judy’s cheeks in a blush when she feels his claws start to tug at said tail, playing with it and petting it with a ginger touch. Whenever he starts acting like this, Nick gets oddly touchy-feely all of a sudden. In her experience thus far, Judy realizes that she needs to let him ride it out. Give it a moment.

Nick releases a long, weary exhale and Judy feels the tension exit his body. After a few moments, he murmurs, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A deep sigh. “No. It’s not. I need to stop letting the season get to me. Just because it’s winter doesn’t mean I can act like a possessive jerk.”

Normally, Judy doesn’t like to ask him about this topic. It’s evident Nick feels uncomfortable talking about it, and she’s probably better off not knowing.

Still, her curiosity pushes her to wonder out loud, “…Is it that bad?”

“Depends. Sometimes I’m completely in control and everything’s fine…and then certain things just set me off.”

“Like what?”

Silence answers her, meaning she needs to wait for him to ponder over his reply. Constant sleepovers dictate more open, serious conversations at night—from which, Judy has learned that Nick  _ will  _ share more personal details about himself, given the right amount of patience.

As a reward for her patience now, Nick explains, “My instincts are attuned to you. I know you’re skeptical of the whole ‘fifth sense’ thing, but I just…when you are threatened in any way, my instincts go haywire and I freak out.”

“Threatened?” she asks. “What do you mean?”

Part of her wishes she could see him in the darkness. Night vision must be pretty nifty to have right now. The one-way sight makes her feel more exposed and vulnerable. Every expression, every movement, he can see it right now, whereas she’s fumbling (literally) in the dark, only guessing his mood.

He takes a deep breath. “Remember the pig?”

Memories of that day tumble around her mind. Of Nick tackling the pig to the ground. Of mammals staring in horror. “What about him?”

Before, his tone would have sounded calm. Smooth. With their new closeness, Judy detects the small, discreet tremor. Another anxious tell of his. “To you it was probably just a petty move. To me? Someone was hurting my prospective mate. Instincts took a hold of me and I lost it for a good couple of seconds. If you hadn’t called me to my senses, I probably would have done something I would’ve regretted.”

Self-loathing makes itself clear in his voice, and Judy develops an immediate urge to  _ get rid of it.  _ Bunny paws search in the dark for Nick’s head. When they acquire their target, they bring his head forward, so that Judy can chin his forehead.

She reassures, “It’s in the past now. We’ve discussed this already.”

“Still doesn’t justify what I did.”

“No, but I’ve already forgiven you, just like you’ve already forgiven me for…you know…”

“Destroying my sense of emotional stability?”

She winces, making him snicker. “Do you have to word it like that?”

“Yep. One hundred percent certainly do.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“If I was insufferable, I highly doubt we’d be sharing a bed every night for the past two weeks.”

_ Smack _ ! “Yeesh! You’re completely blind and yet you  _ still  _ are able to find ways to smack my arm.”

“It’s called tough love. Get used to it.”

In lieu of responding, he shoves his nose underneath her chin. Whiskers tickle her neck, making her titter and squirm in place. “You always like sniffing there. Why?”

“Because,” he pets her ears, purring in approval when she relaxes into his hold, “I can smell  _ us _ there.”

She blinks. “Us?”

Pride tinting his words, Nick says, “Yes. Our scents. They’re intertwined now.”

For some reason, although Gideon had mentioned it, this surprises Judy. “Wait. Really?”

“You probably can’t tell. Only really good sniffers can pick up on it.”

Judy hums, mulling it over. “Interesting.”

Mixed scents, sharing beds,  _ grooming sessions _ . Judy can’t help the shiver that passes through her. It’s—it’s a lot. Not that she doesn’t enjoy trying new things or experiencing unique moments. Lord no, she loves sharing this new connection and culture with Nick. Loves Nick  _ period _ . Yet –

“You’re anxious again.”

_ Ugh _ . “How do you  _ do  _ that?”

He chuckles. “I’m learning your scent. The more familiarized I am, the better I can tell what you’re feeling.”

_ Turnips, _ she might as well purchase a bunch of emoji signs that constantly display her current mood. Granted, part of being in a relationship includes confiding in one another, but it’s more than a little unnerving to know someone can  _ smell  _ how she  _ feels _ .

Realization hits with how quiet she has been. Nick waits for Judy, though, just as she does for him (a little action that doesn’t go unappreciated).

Toes flexing and nose twitching, Judy murmurs, “I’m worried.”

She scoffs at herself for how plain that sounds. Tries again. “That is to say, I’m worried about, uh, about the terms of our, um, togetherness.”

Contrary to her serious tone, Nick sniggers out loud. “ _ Togetherness? _ That’s what we’re calling this?”

Repressed laughter causes him to shake, commencing a chaotic mess of bunny nerves and nonsensical rambles.

“Well, w-we never set any boundaries or, or anything. I mean, we have! Just not, like, you know, boundaries concerning the, uh, future. Oh god, I sound like I’m referring to marriage—which I’m not! No, no marriages here—not that I wouldn’t ever want to! Wait, no, that’s not what I mean.”

Stutters keep pooling out of her, only adding to Nick’s entertainment. Heat accumulates in her cheeks, probably humiliation of  _ how much she sounds like a bumbling moron. _

“Nick! I’m being serious!” she whines. “Stop making fun of me!”

Despite his humor, he assures, “I’m not! You’re just—god—you are precious. Like a precious sunshine flower child. Only, you know, with more butt-kicking abilities and possible anger management issues, but, hey, everyone’s a work-in-progress.”

Face hidden behind her paws, she groans.

“Hah, sorry Fluff. Just-heh-it’s funny watching you try to initiate a DTR talk.”

Stiffness creeps into her ears. Regardless of how funny Nick finds this, a crippling fear builds inside Judy—fear of what Nick wants, what Nick can provide. As much as Nick loves her and cuddles her and scent-marks her so much to the point that their scents are no longer separate, he hasn’t insinuated that this would last longer than winter.

Worry over whether this is a passing interest or a genuine commitment has been plaguing Judy since before they left the burrows.

Somehow the easy-going atmosphere vanishes in an instant.

“Judes?” Nick asks, concerned, “Are you scared about making this official?”

“No-no, that’s not it. Not exactly.”

Body sprawled on top of her, Nick’s purr vibrates through Judy, strong and steady and comforting and  _ Nick _ . It works to soothe her and calm her racing heart.

After some reflection, she murmurs shyly, “I’m scared…about what you want.”

“What I want?”

The truth will always set you free. Or, at the very least, set free pent-up anxiety and inner word vomit that may have been better bottled up.

“I mean, I know we talked about being together and about you loving me with or without hormones and stuff, which is great by the way, and I really, really appreciate how much we’ve been communicating, which is also really great.

“But you’ve only mentioned being together  _ for the winter  _ and haven’t really insinuated being anything more than winter buddies – which kind of freaks me out because bunnies grow attached really fast – not that I’m clingy or anything but we’re only two weeks in and I’m already scared about you breaking up with me once spring starts and us being just best friends again – which is fine – except, well, actually it’s not fine, because I’m too emotionally invested and the idea of giving you up to marry some gorgeous vixen named something cool, like, Skye or something would destroy me—and then I’d have to sit there wallowing in my own self-pity while you have little kits and I’ll be called Aunt Judy who has no life outside of babysitting and going to a stupid book club discussing cheap, trashy romance novels, and then I’ll grow old and disgusting and watch you be happy while I’m single and forever alone because I don’t know how to date bucks and fail spectacularly at—”

Fur and skin and pressure cut Judy off from her spiel. Though it’s pitch-black, Judy can tell by the bumps and ridges that Nick used his paw to cover her mouth. She exhales heavily, indignant, ready to complain to him when he says, “You are either the dumbest or most dramatic bunny I have ever met. Or both.”

Mouth moving despite the weight of his paw, she gapes at him.

“For someone who claims to know a lot about foxes, you clearly don’t know enough about  _ this one _ .”

He removes his paw. Fur slinks around her while his weight on the bed shifts and slightly jostles her.

Movement and random moments of touch occur for a few minutes, before Nick stops altogether.

“Judy.” His voice is near her right ear. Paw grappling in that direction, she comes into contact with his snout. The other paw tests patting towards the other side and finds his tail. Though she can’t be sure, she thinks his whole body circles around her, like one of the Temfurpedic neck pillows.

“Y-yeah?” she stutters, cursing again her lack of night vision.

“Did Gideon tell you what  _ mating  _ actually is?”

When her face twists into one of mortification, he quickly amends, “Sorry! I mean, what mateship means to  _ foxes  _ in particular.”

Judy squeaks, “Does this have to do with the birds and the b—”

“ _ No.  _ Nononononono, it has  _ nothing  _ to do with that. Or, at least, it doesn’t have to.”

“So this  _ doesn’t _ involve—”

“Please,  _ please,  _ don’t finish that sentence. And, no, it doesn’t.”

Her mind sorts through possible definitions. Marriage? Permanent bonding? Bearing children? All of which aren’t necessarily bad things, but definitely aspects of a relationship that Judy isn’t ready for yet.

“I’m taking your blank stare as a ‘no’, then.”

“I guess.”

“All right. Gideon told you a lot about the season, and about winter relationships and whatnot. He’s not wrong. There’s a lot of foxes that only stay together for the sake of the season. Friends with benefits, I guess you would call it.

“Mateship is different. Mates are on a deeper, more intimate level. Not friends, not boyfriends or girlfriends, not lovers, not  _ partners _ .”

Dryness spreads in Judy’s throat at the last one.

“I can’t really give you a comparison or parallel. It’s sort of like a marriage, minus the whole ‘death till us part’ gig. A pre-marriage maybe? Whatever. Point is: mates don’t just hash it out during the winter and then say ‘Toodles!’ at the end. They devote themselves to one another. They bond. They become attuned to each other and rely on each other. In the physical sense, foxes mate for life. We have monogamous tendencies and it’s hard for us to move on from someone we’re very close with. In order to make sure we’re with the right mammal, we  _ court _ a mate beforehand.”

“‘Court?’” Judy repeats, processing his words.

“Yep.” Nick pops the ‘p’.

“I think I understand,” Judy murmurs, pensive. Bunnies court too, though she has a feeling it’s not exactly the same for her species as it is for his.

“Do you?”

As he asks, he curls closer around her to the point that she’s blanketed by fox fur, fox limbs, fox skin, fox, fox,  _ fox.  _ The only part of her free of contact is her head, sticking out while her limbs are helpless under the binding mountain of  _ Nick _ .

Fox tongue licks at her cheek, initiating what she’s positive is another grooming session.

“Oh no,” she warns, “don’t you start again—”

“My  _ mate  _ is under the impression that I’m going to marry a fictional vixen named Skye.  _ Skye _ . What kind of name  _ is  _ that anyway?”

Embarrassment stops Judy from spewing out an offended, dramatic ramble, instead causing her to half-form squeaks and awkward stutters.

“I suppose my intentions aren’t clear enough. Let me clarify, then.”

One final grooming lick trails from her jaw to her forehead before something cold and wet bops her nose. The unexpected action would have caused her to jump had she not been encircled by Nick.

“This,” he murmurs, breath billowing against her mouth, “is  _ not  _ a temporary fling.”

“You,” Nick continues, rubbing against her with all parts of his body, “are  _ not  _ just my ‘winter buddy’ or ‘friend with benefits’.”

Sharp teeth nibble on her neck, hard enough to leave a mark in her fur, but light enough that Judy feels no pain. A sound of euphoria builds up and clogs in her throat, willpower the only thing stopping it.

“ _ You  _ are  _ mine  _ just as  _ I  _ am  _ yours.  _ To others, there is no ‘you’ or ‘me’ there is an  _ us,  _ because we are  _ mates _ .”

For what must be the thirtieth time in the span of an hour, Nick marks her again before placing his chin right between her ears above her forehead.

“I’m not sure about you Fluffbutt, but I don’t plan on going anywhere. And I can assure you, even after this season is over, if I find another buck staring at your tail I’ll  _ still  _ pulverize him.”

The doubt that had planted itself in her mind, that had grown and infected her emotions with insecurity and fear, disappears. Nick weeds it out—with his love, his affection, his  _ everything _ . Judy shakes from head to toe, not in fear or worry, but with  _ yearning  _ and  _ passion  _ and  _ cheese and crackers I didn’t think it was possible to be this emotional _ .

She blurts out, for the first time, “I love you.”

Maybe it’s too early, but she can’t find it in herself to care. How long had they been pining after one another, hoping for something more than partners, hoping for  _ this _ ?

_ Too long _ , she decides, chirping and curling into his embrace. 

They share some more kisses and snuggles before returning to their original position. Finally, for the first time since they’ve arrived back in Zootopia, Judy feels the weight alleviate from her chest. And gosh darn if it isn’t the most relieving sensation ever.

Darkness and comfort prompt her to fall asleep. She hears the lull in Nick’s heartbeat; he is moments away from passing out. She closes her eyes and shifts her body a little to get cozy. 

“Hey, Judy?” he murmurs, grogginess softening the words.

“Yeah?” she mumbles back, barely awake. 

He hesitates in his answer. “I showed you everything about fox culture, right?”

“Mhmmm.”

“And you love and accept me for it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, theoretically, for me to love and accept you in equal measures, it needs to go both ways.”

“Nick,” she groans, on the cusp of blissful sleep, “get to the point.”

“Well, I mean, I have been really curious. And you have been awfully quiet.”

“About what?”

It takes some time for him to divulge. And when he does, unbeknownst to both of them, it marks the beginning of a whole new set of issues, confusion, and awkwardness. 

“What about bunny culture?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the many questions regarding bunny culture, I think this ended off on a cute, funny, appropriate note xD.
> 
> Wow. I never thought I would make it to this point.
> 
> This is the only multi-chapter fic, in all my writing history, that has ever been completed. Not gonna lie. Kind of proud.
> 
> It's not perfect. I wish I could have characterized them differently at some points, or wrote it out as one cohesive plot rather than small snippets bunched together. I didn't intend for this to be a mating season fic, it just sort of happened. *shrugs* I do want to cross post to FF.net at some point, and fix some of my technical errors. For now, though, I'm happy enough with how it is.
> 
> I already ranted about the emotional importance of this story to me, so I'll exclude those notes. I do, however, want to thank everyone who left kind words and comments and kudos. Even those who bookmarked or subscribed or read from the sidelines; thank you for your support, your interest, and your time. I gave up my dream of being a professional writer/authoress a long time ago, but being able to release my creative energy on this site is something that keeps me afloat when I need to escape from reality for a little while. It's nice to receive feedback, whether it's praise or criticism, or just your overall thoughts/reactions to the story. Again, thank you all. You words have inspired a lot of motivation in me, and it's nice to gush over this fandom with others who understand my love for it.
> 
> Since everyone has been asking, in regards to whether I will continue/add more to this: I actually wrote some scenes based on the stories Nick and Judy were talking about at the beginning of the chapter. The praying mantis incident? Bogo at Vixenoria's Secret? Yeah. These were funny scenes I wanted to squeeze in the fic somewhere, but unfortunately couldn't find a proper place to put them. I have some other deleted parts as well, that would have changed the entire plot of the story had I decided to stick with them. I will add a bonus chapter at one point, once I compile all the deleted outtakes. Don't know when that will be, but I'm working on it. 
> 
> There are some themes or topics I want to explore that I may add as a separate one-shot. This story encompasses the beginning of their relationship; the honeymoon phase where they're unaware of/ignoring each other's faults. Nick and Judy have a lot of issues to sort through--issues they have yet to discuss or yet to consciously think about. Given my purpose for writing this, ICBH intentionally avoids this upcoming angst/turmoil. 
> 
> As for continuing to write for the Zootopia fandom in general, I certainly have a couple of plots swirling around my brain that I want to flesh out. It's been a little choppy considering my busy schedule and also the temptation of being drawn into the Miraculous Ladybug fandom. My Vegas story is the current priority (of which I have 6,000 words sitting on my hard drive that needs to be revised and edited), though I have an upcoming Nick-centric three-shot that I may post first. I don't want to give away too many details until it's done, but it does relate to October being the anti-bullying month.
> 
> I suppose that's all. I'm off to pull another all-nighter so I can get my crap done by tomorrow. Thank you all again for your support, and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed this journey as much as I have. Hopefully I will return by Halloween, but no promises! 
> 
> A good night to all, and to all, a good night :)


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